"It's the biggest place," observed Sunny Boy. "And such lots and lots of people!"
"I dare say we could stand here all day, or a week for that matter, and never see a soul we knew," returned Mrs. Horton.
"Why Mother!" Sunny Boy almost shouted in his excitement, "there's somebody we know this minute--over there by that window. It's Joe Brown!"
"We'll go over and speak to him," said Mrs. Horton.
As they came up to the window they heard the ticket agent speaking to the boy.
"Seven sixty-five, one way to Centronia," said the agent.
"But I don't want a parlor car seat or nothing," protested Joe Brown.
"That doesn't count in a Pullman," retorted the agent. "Seven sixty-five one way, I tell you."
Joe Brown shuffled his shabby feet uneasily.
"How--how--how little do you have to be to get half-fare?" he blurted.
"A sight smaller than you are," snapped the agent. "Do you want a ticket or not?"
Joe Brown looked at the crumpled wad of dirty bills and loose change in his hand.
"I guess I won't take it just now," he mumbled, and turned away.
"Hello, Joe!" Sunny Boy pounced upon him gleefully, having waited till this minute only because his mother had held him back. "How are you?"
"Pretty well, thank you," answered Joe politely, flushing a little.
"Joe, do you want to go home?" asked Mrs. Horton gravely. "I overheard you talking with the ticket agent. Haven't you enough money?"
Joe Brown looked at her quickly, then away again.
"I would kinda like to go home," he admitted.
"Oh, Joe!" Mrs. Horton cried half impatiently, half laughing. "Come over here and sit down a minute. Now tell me truly. Did you run away, and do you want to go back?"
Joe sat down on one side of her, and Sunny Boy scrambled into the seat on the other side. He leaned over her shoulder to listen.
"Well, yes, I did run away," confessed Joe humbly. "That is, I meant to go see my Aunt Annabell, and write the folks from her house. But she had moved, honest she had; I couldn't locate her nowhere. And then I thought I'd get me a job and wear new clothes home. But New York isn't such an easy place to get along in. These don't look much like new clothes."
Mrs. Horton glanced at the shabby suit.
"But your mother, Joe?" she urged. "Haven't you written to her?"
"I sent her postals telling her not to worry," answered Joe.
"And now you want to go home?" asked Mrs. Horton.
Sunny Boy, watching the careless, slouching Joe, was surprised to see great tears come into his eyes suddenly. He tried to wipe them away with his coat sleeve.
"I want to go home!" he choked. "It's been an awful long time, and I'm so lonesome--and there's my mother!"
Sunny Boy's mother tucked a clean little white handkerchief into Joe's hand.
"Don't cry," she said kindly. "We'll see that you get home. Here comes Mr. Horton. He'll make it all right."
When Mr. Horton heard that Joe wanted to go home, he said it was the "easiest thing in the world."
"I'll get your ticket and see you on the train," he promised. "There's a local leaving in half an hour. You'll be in Centronia by eight o'clock to-night."
"But I haven't enough money," faltered Joe.
"I'll lend it to you," said Mr. Horton, just as he would speak to a business friend. "Then next week you come down to the office and we'll talk things over. How will that do?"
Joe said he guessed it was all right, and while he and Mr. Horton went off to buy the ticket, Mrs. Horton and Sunny Boy bought a bag of fruit and sandwiches for Joe to have on the train.
"He looks half starved," commented Mrs. Horton. "Won't his mother enjoy getting him a good meal!"
"When you going home?" Joe Brown asked, as they walked with him to the train gate. "Wish it was now."
"We're coming to-morrow," said Mrs. Horton, "Say good-bye to Joe, precious. He'll be home before you are."
Joe shook hands awkwardly with Sunny Boy and then with Mr. and Mrs.
Horton.
"I sure am obliged to you," he said shyly.
They watched him pass through the gate and down the platform, and saw a brakeman point to the train he was to board. At the steps Joe turned again, and waved to them.
"I'm glad he's out of New York," declared Mr. Horton. "This city is no place for a friendless boy. And now you and Sunny Boy go on up to the Museum, and I'll see you at dinner."
Sunny Boy enjoyed another ride on top of his beloved bus, and then he and Mother spent a couple of busy and happy hours looking at the wonderful exhibits in the Museum of Natural History.
"Jack said to see the birds," Sunny insisted, for Jack, the bell-boy at the hotel, had his own ideas as to what was worth seeing in New York.
After the birds came the Eskimo cases, and after them, those given over to the American Indians. And then, quite by accident, Sunny Boy and his mother came to the exhibits of the marvelous gigantic creatures that were the animals of this world centuries ago.
"My goodness!" gasped Sunny Boy, startled, when he caught his first glimpse of a creature labeled with a long name that he couldn't hope to read. "What's that, Mother?"
"That's the way the animals used to look," said Mrs. Horton smiling.
"You'd be surprised, wouldn't you, if when you went to take a walk some morning you saw this great thing coming over the field toward you?"
"I wouldn't want to see him," said Sunny Boy decidedly. "Are there more of 'em? Hurry up, Mother, and let's see this one in the corner."
"Now don't dream about any of them," said Mrs. Horton jokingly, as they went down the Museum steps.
"Course not," answered Sunny Boy stoutly. "I never dream--hardly any, I mean. And we're going home to-morrow, aren't we?"