PAGE 10
"There were Ninety and Nine"
by
“I am going away from this place, Walters,” he said as he pulled off his coat and threw himself heavily on the bed. “I will take the first train that leaves here, and I will sleep a little while you put up my things. The first train, you understand–within an hour, if it leaves that soon.” His head sank back on the pillows heavily, as though he had come in from a long, weary walk, and his eyes closed and his arms fell easily at his side. The servant stood frightened and yet happy, with the tears running down his cheeks, for he loved his master dearly.
“We are going home, Walters,” the Plunger whispered drowsily. “We are going home; home to England and Harringford and the governor–and we are going to be happy for all the rest of our lives.” He paused a moment, and Walters bent forward over the bed and held his breath to listen.
“For he came to me,” murmured the boy, as though he was speaking in his sleep, “when I was yet a great way off–while I was yet a great way off, and ran to meet me–“
His voice sank until it died away into silence, and a few hours later, when Walters came to wake him, he found his master sleeping like a child and smiling in his sleep.