Steve and the Steam Engine | Page 7

week-end and when he did it was always a cause for great
rejoicing. Doris, elated at the prospect of rejoining her college friends,
was also in the happiest frame of mind and tripped up and down stairs,
collecting her forgotten possessions and jamming them into her already
bulging suitcase.
As for Steve, the prickings of conscience that had at first tormented
him and made him shrink from being left alone with his father had
quite vanished. He had argued himself into a state of mental tranquility
where further punishment for his misdemeanor seemed superfluous.
After his hairbreadth escape from disaster there was no danger, he
argued, of his repeating the experiment, and was not this the very
lesson all punishments sought to instill? If he had achieved this result
without bothering his father about the details, why so much the better.
Did not the old adage say that "experience is the best teacher"?
Certainly in this case the maxim held true.
Having thus excused his under-handedness and stifled the protests of
his better nature he felt, or tried to feel, entirely at peace with the world;
and as he now sauntered out to greet the new day he did it as jauntily as
if he had nothing to conceal. Already the car was at the door with the
luggage aboard and its engine humming invitingly. As the boy listened
to the sound he could not but rejoice that the purring monster could tell
no tales. How disconcerting it would be should the scarlet devil
suddenly shout aloud: "Well, Steve, don't you hope we do not get
stalled to-day the way we did going to Torrington?" Mercifully there
was no danger of that. The engine might puff and purr and snort but at
least it could not talk, and his secret was quite safe. This reflection
lighted his face with courage and when the family came out to join him
no one would have suspected that the slender boy waiting on the

doorstep harbored a thought of anything but anticipation in the prospect
of the coming holiday.
"Is everything in, Steve?" asked his father, approaching with Doris's
remaining grip.
"I think so, Dad," was the reply. "It certainly seems as if I had piled in
almost a dozen suitcases."
"Nonsense, Stevie," pouted Doris. "There were only four."
"Five, Miss Sophomore!" contradicted her brother. "Five! That one
Dad is bringing makes the fifth, and I would be willing to bet that it is
yours."
"That's where you are wrong, Smartie," the girl laughed
good-humoredly, making a mischievous grimace at him from beneath
the brim of her saucy little toque of blue velvet. "I am not guilty of the
extra suitcase. It's mother's."
"Your mother's!" ejaculated Mr. Tolman incredulously. "Mercy on us! I
never knew your mother to be starting out on a short trip with such an
array of gowns." Then turning toward his wife, he added in bantering
fashion: "Aren't you getting a little frivolous, my dear? If it were Doris
now--"
"But it isn't this time!" interrupted the young lady triumphantly.
Her mother exchanged a glance with her and they both laughed.
"No, Henry, I am the one to blame," Mrs. Tolman admitted. "You see,
if I am to keep pace with my big son and daughter I must look my best;
so I have not only brought the extra suitcase but I am going to be
tremendously fussy as to where it is put."
"I do believe Mater's brought all her jewels with her!" Steve declared
wickedly. "Well, she shall have her sunbursts, tiaras, and things where
she can keep her eye on them every moment. Suppose I put them down

here at your feet, Mother."
Without further ado, he started to lift the basket suitcase into the car.
"Don't tip it up, son. Don't tip it up!" cautioned his mother.
"Your mother is afraid of knocking some of the pearls or emeralds out
of their setting," chuckled Mr. Tolman. "Go easy, Steve!"
A general laugh arose as the offending piece of baggage was stowed
away out of sight. An instant later wraps and rugs were bundled in,
everybody was cosily tucked up, and Mr. Tolman placed his hands on
the wheel.
"Now we're off, Dad!" cried Stephen, as he sprang in beside his father.
Mr. Tolman needed no second bidding.
There was a whir, a leap forward, and the automobile glided down the
long avenue and out into the highway.
Steve, studying the road map, was too much interested in tracing out
the route they were to follow to notice that after the car had spun along
smoothly for several miles its speed lessened, and it was not until it
came to a complete standstill that he aroused himself from his
preoccupation sufficiently to see that his father was bending