former fellow-passengers walked beside him. "Where are you going, young
man? Someone going to meet you, of course?"

"No, sir," said Jimmy. "I'm supposed to take a cab--"

"I'm going your way, why not ride along with me?"

"Sure it's all right?"

"Sure thing. Come along." Jimmy never knew that this man felt good for a
week after he'd done his good turn for the year.

His grandfather opened the door and looked down at him in complete
surprise. "Why, Jimmy! What are you doing here? Who brought--"

His grandmother interrupted, "Come in! Come in! Don't just stand there
with the door open!"

Grandfather closed the door firmly, grandmother knelt and folded Jimmy
in her arms and crooned over him, "You poor darling. You brave little
fellow. Donald," she said firmly to her husband, "go get a glass of warm
milk and some cookies." She led Jimmy to the old-fashioned parlor and
seated him on the sofa. "Now, Jimmy, you relax a moment and then you can
tell me what happened."

Jimmy sighed and looked around. The house was old, and comfortably
sturdy. It gave him a sense of refuge, of having reached a safe haven at
last. The house was over-warm, and there was a musty smell of over-aged
furniture, old leather, and the pungence of mothballs. It seemed to
generate a feeling of firm stability. Even the slightly stale air--there