Carlton strove to put the thought of the coming
interview out of his mind.
"I have done as well as I knew," he reiterated. "Would that it had
been my own boy instead of his!"
Over and over he planned to himself what he would say at that
crucial meeting. He would explain as nearly as he could the precise
conditions that he felt justified him in assuming the immense
financial responsibilities he had heaped up for his former friend.
If the lad lived it would be worth it all; but if he did not it
would all have gone for naught. Would not any father rather have had
his child alive, invalid though he was, than to have lost him
altogether?
The meeting when it came was quite different from anything Mr.
Carlton had outlined. It was after midnight when the special arrived
at the dim little station, and even before the train came to a stop
its solitary passenger sprang impatiently to the platform.
There was no need for James Carlton to make certain who it was;
every line of the form was familiar. He strode to the traveler's
side.
The hands of the two men shot out and met in a firm clasp.
"The boy?"
"He is alive, Asa."
"God bless you, Jim!"
Van Blake faced the great crisis, fought his way courageously
through it, and won.
Slowly he retraced his steps up the path to health again, and as
soon as he was able to be moved he and his father and mother
together with the Carltons went to Allenville and opened the old
farmhouse for Christmas.
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