"Not now, not now, Mother," he said. "The boy ain't goin' to run away
to-night. He'll be here to-morrow and a good many to-morrows,
if"--and here again Albert seemed to detect the slight sarcasm and
the twinkle--"if we old-fashioned 'down easters' ain't too common and
every-day for a high-toned young chap like him to put up with. No, no,
don't make him talk to-night. Can't you see he's so sleepy that it's
only the exercise of openin' his mouth to eat that keeps his eyes from
shuttin'? How about that, son?"

It was perfectly true. The long train ride, the excitement, the cold
wait on the station platform and the subsequent warmth of the room, the
hearty meal, all these combined to make for sleepiness so overpowering
that several times the boy had caught his nose descending toward his
plate in a most inelegant nod. But it hurt his pride to think his
grandfather had noticed his condition.

"Oh, I'm all right," he said, with dignity.

Somehow the dignity seemed to have little effect upon Captain Zelotes.

"Um--yes, I know," observed the latter dryly, "but I guess likely you'll
be more all right in bed. Mother, you'll show Albert where to turn in,
won't you? There's your suitcase out there in the hall, son. I fetched
it in from the barn just now."

Mrs. Snow ventured a protest.

"Oh, Zelotes," she cried, "ain't we goin' to talk with him at ALL? Why,
there is so much to say!"