Big Brother | Page 2

his brows nervously. He heard the girl's
question, and then her father's reply: "I don't know, my dear, I am sure;
but I'll inquire if you wish."
The man's brows relaxed a little and he answered them without waiting
to be addressed. "They are children sent out by an aid society in the
East. I am taking them to homes in Kansas, mostly in the country."
"You don't mean to tell me," the old gentleman exclaimed in surprise,
"that you have the care of that entire car full of children! How do you
ever manage them all?"
The man grinned. "It does look like a case of the old woman that lived
in a shoe, but there are not as many as it would seem. They can spread
themselves over a good deal of territory, and I'm blessed if some of 'em
can't be in half a dozen places at once. There's a little English girl in the
lot--fourteen years or thereabouts--that keeps a pretty sharp eye on
them. Then they're mostly raised to taking care of themselves." Some
one accosted him, and he turned away. Grace looked up at the
bewitching little face, still watching her with eager interest.
"Poor baby!" she said to herself. "Poor little homeless curly head! If I
could only do something for you!" Then she realized that even the
opportunity she had was slipping away, and held up the box. "Here,
Robin," she called, "take it inside so that you can eat them without
spilling them."
"All of 'em?" he asked with a radiant smile. He stretched out his dirty,
dimpled fingers. "All of 'em," he repeated with satisfaction as he
balanced the box on the sill. "All for Big Brother and me!"
Another face appeared at the window beside Robin's, one very much
like it; grave and sweet, with the same delicate moulding of features.

There was no halo of sunny curls on the finely shaped head, but the
persistent wave of the darker, closely cut hair showed what it had been
at Robin's age. There was no color in the face either. The lines of the
sensitive mouth had a pathetic suggestion of suppressed trouble. He
was a manly-looking boy, but his face was far too sad for a child of ten.
"Gracie," said Mrs. Estel, "your father said the train will not start for
fifteen minutes. He has gone back to stay with your mother. Would you
like to go through the car with me, and take a look at the little waifs?"
"Yes, indeed," was the answer. "Think how far they have come. I wish
we had found them sooner."
A lively game of tag was going on in the aisle. Children swarmed over
the seats and under them. One boy was spinning a top. Two or three
were walking around on their hands, with their feet in the air. The
gayest group seemed to be in the far end of the car, where two seats full
of children were amusing themselves by making faces at each other.
The uglier the contortion and more frightful the grimace, the louder
they laughed.
In one corner the English girl whom the man had mentioned sat
mending a little crocheted jacket, belonging to one of the children. She
was indeed keeping a sharp eye on them.
"'Enry," she called authoritatively, "stop teasing those girls, Hi say. Pull
the 'airs from your hown 'ead, and see 'ow you like that naow! Sally,
you shall not drink the 'ole enjuring time. Leave the cup be! No,
Maggie, Hi can tell no story naow. Don't you see Hi must be plying my
needle? Go play, whilst the car stops."
Robin smiled on Grace like an old friend when she appeared at the door,
and moved over to make room for her on the seat beside him. He had
no fear of strangers, so he chattered away in confiding baby fashion,
but the older boy said nothing. Sometimes he smiled when she told
some story that made Robin laugh out heartily, but it seemed to her that
it was because the little brother was pleased that he laughed, not
because he listened.

Presently Mrs. Estel touched her on the shoulder. "The time is almost
up. I am going to ask your father to bring my things in here. As you
leave at the next station, I could not have your company much longer,
anyhow. I have all the afternoon ahead of me, and I want something to
amuse me."
"I wish I could stay with you," answered Grace, "but mamma is such an
invalid I cannot leave her that long. She would be worrying about me
all the time."
She bade Robin an affectionate good-by, telling him that he was the
dearest little fellow in the world, and that