"The man she called Jack is built ever so much better than Mr.
Gosport is. _He_ wouldn't just cry over a brakeman. He'd give
him some money or...."

"It is very wonderful to feel that we are all brothers, and that so
little a thing as bringing it home to a train-hand could move him so
profoundly," finished Mr. Gosport, cheered by the success of his
anecdote. "I make it a point never to neglect such little things--"

He was left with a period in mid-air, for Joy, with a flurry of
skirts, was running toward her grandfather. She didn't care a bit
whether men were all brothers or second cousins; she thought maybe
Grandfather would know the real name of the man she had talked to,
the one besides Jack.

"Grandfather, what was the name of the man with curly, fair hair and
big gray eyes, the one who had a little old lady with him?" she
demanded breathlessly, clinging to her grandfather's arm and
interrupting him ruthlessly in the middle of something he was saying
to somebody.

"I haven't the faintest recollection," said Grandfather; and
Grandmother whispered:

"Come away, dear. The lady with him just asked him whether he wrote
under his own name or a nom-de-plume, and you know how irritating
that is."

Joy came obediently away. After all, it didn't matter about Jack's