"Has that enJINE gone?" he asked breathlessly. The man who was whirling trunks
on their corners into the baggage-room did not answer. Chad's eyes flashed and
he caught the man by the coat-tail.

"Has that enJINE gone?" he cried.

The man looked over his shoulder.

"Leggo my coat, you little devil. Yes, that enJINE'S gone," he added,
mimicking. Then he saw the boy's unhappy face and he dropped the trunk and
turned to him.

"What's the matter?" he asked, kindly.

Chad had turned away with a sob.

"They've lef' me--they've lef' me," he said, and then, controlling himself:

"Is thar another goin'?"

"Not till to-morrow mornin'."

Another sob came, and Chad turned away--he did not want anybody to see him
cry. And this was no time for crying, for Chad's prayer back at the grave
under the poplar flashed suddenly back to him.

"I got to ack like a man now." And, sobered at once, he walked on up the
hill--thinking. He could not know that the school-master was back in the town,
looking for him. If he waited until the next morning, the Turners would