He asked me where I lived. I told him, “Up the river a ways.”
“You know,” he said, “I have some puppies in there for a boy that lives up on the river. His name is Billy Colman.
I know his dad, but never have seen the boy. I figured he would be in after them today.”
On hearing this remark, my heart jumped clear up in my throat. I thought surely it was going to hop right out on the depot platform.
I looked up and tried to tell him who I was, but something went wrong.
When the words finally came out they sounded like the squeaky old pulley on our well when Mama drew up a bucket of water.
I could see a twinkle in the stationmaster’s eyes. He came over and laid his hand on my shoulder.
In a friendly voice he said, “So you’re Billy Colman. How is your dad?”
I told him Papa was fine and handed him the slip my grandpa had given me.
“They sure are fine-looking pups,” he said. “You’ll have to go around to the freight door.”
I’m sure my feet never touched the ground as I flew around the building.
He unlocked the door, and I stepped in, looking for my dogs.
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