"So you're that kind, are you?" he queried. "Little Sunday-school boy. Ain't you afraid your mamma's worryin' about you?" "Don't you want me to--" "I don't want you to do nothin' but get out!" Nevins broke in, and took the orders from the hook and looked over them. "As I said before, I can read. I suppose you can, too. So don't bother me." An angry retort rose to Allan's lips, but he choked it back; and at that instant a whistle sounded down the line, and the roar of an approaching train. He had just time to grab coat and lunch-basket and swing aboard, and in a moment was off toward Wadsworth. He sank into a seat, his heart still hot at Nevins's insolence; and yet, on second thought, he was glad that he had not yielded to the impulse to return an angry answer. It was natural that Nevins should have been provoked, though the delay of the night before was not Allan's fault in the slightest degree; and, in any event, there was no use making an enemy of a fellow who might be able to do a great deal of mischief. But one thing Allan resolved on, his lips set: he would explain outstanding orders to Nevins, whether the latter chose to listen or not. Mary Welsh was waiting for him at the door. "You poor boy," she said. "You're half-dead fer sleep!" "Only a quarter dead," Allan corrected, "and I'll soon be good as new. What's that I smell?" he added, wrinkling his nose, as he stepped inside the door. "Hot biscuits?" "You go git washed," retorted Mary, with affected sternness, "an' you'll see what it is when ye git t' table. Hurry up, now!" "All right," laughed the boy. "I know you, Mary Welsh." And when he sat down, he found that his nose had told him correctly. The biscuits were flaky and white and piping hot, with golden butter melting over them; and there were three slices of bacon cut very thin and browned to a turn; and potato-cakes--not those soggy, squashy potato-cakes which are, alas! too familiar--but crisp and brown, touching the palate in just the right way. Ah, Mary, you have achieved something in this world that many of your more "cultured" sisters may well envy you! How few of them could create potato-cakes like yours!