The train from the west that bore Bert Bryant to New York was two hours late, for all the way from Clinton, Ohio, where Bert lived, the snow had been from four inches to a foot in depth. Consequently he had missed the one o’clock train for Mt. Pleasant and had spent an hour with his face glued to a waiting-room window watching the bustle and confusion of New York. Now, at four o’clock, he was seated in a sleigh, his suit-case between his feet, winding up the long, snowy road to Mt. Pleasant Academy. In the front seat was the fur-clad driver and beside him was Bert’s small trunk.

Similar Bookshelves 5645v