"I saw lights at the locksmith's over the way, as I passed," he said;
"why do not you send over to the young man there? He can get
your door open for you. I never would spend the night here."
Solomon John went over to "the young man," who agreed to go up
to the house as soon as he had closed the shop, fit a key, and open
the door, and come back to them on his way home. Solomon John
came back to the station, for it was now cold and windy in the
deserted streets. The family made themselves as comfortable as
possible by the stove, sending Solomon John out occasionally to
look for the young man. But somehow Solomon John missed him;
the lights were out in the locksmith's shop, so he followed along
to the house, hoping to find him there.
But he was not there! He came back to report. Perhaps the young
man had opened the door and gone on home. Solomon John and
Agamemnon went back together, but they could not get in. Where
was the young man? He had lately come to town, and nobody
knew where he lived, for on the return of Solomon John and
Agamemnon it had been proposed to go to the house of the young
man. The night was wearing on.
The midnight train had come and gone. The passengers who came
and went looked with wonder at Mrs. Peterkin, nodding in her
turban, as she sat by the stove, on a corner of a long bench. At last
the station-master had to leave, for a short rest.
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