. . .he darkness, delayed here and there at sidings, and throwing trains all along the line out of their time schedule.

There was silence in the car.  The traveling men no longer told their stories; Aunt Zillah nodded but dared not doze for fear of missing her station; the mountain woman brooded patiently, caring little, it seemed, as to what fate might have in store for her; and little Constance slept in Azalea’s arms.  Carin was supremely patient and quiet; and the bright eyes of Keefe O’Connor gleamed now and then from under the rim of his cap, which was pulled low over his face, and behind which he was occupied in thinking his own thoughts.

But he was alert enough when the conductor came to warn him that they were approaching Rowantree Road.  He and Azalea between them got the little girl awake, and with his packages and hers, the friends saw him swing off the train in the black murk.  The conductor’s lantern threw a little glow around. . . Read More