talking about him, he had reached the end of his adventures, and was
already in the house. It had not so much as occurred to him that his
mother would hear of the disaster to the pig and the railway-train until
he himself should tell her; and so he had made sure of his supper down
stairs before reporting his arrival. He might not have done it perhaps;
but he had entered the house by the lower way, through the area door,
and that of the dining-room had stood temptingly open, with some very
eatable things spread out upon the table.

That had been too much for Ford, after his car-ride, and his smash-up,
and his long walk.

Now, at last, up he came, three stairs at a time, brimful of new and
wonderful experiences, to be more than a little astonished by the manner
and enthusiasm of his welcome.

"Why, mother," he exclaimed, when he got a chance for a word, "you and
Annie couldn't have said much more if I'd been the pig himself!"

"The pig!" said Annie.

"Yes, the pig that stopped us. He and the engine won't go home to their
families to-night."

"Don't make fun of it, Ford," said his mother gently. "It's too serious
a matter."

Just then his father broke in, almost impatiently, with,--

"Well, Ford, my boy, have you done your errand? or shall I have to see