THE STEAM-SHOVEL MAN
was overshadowed. Mrs. Goodwin followed him into the hall. Her troubled face was so eloquent that he said:
"It is not really impossible, my dear. I could raise the money for the trip, either on my note, or by placing a small mortgage on the house."
"You need not worry about leaving us," she replied. "There is a little left in the savings-bank, and we can get along nicely."
"Oh, you blessed daddy," cried Eleanor, her arms around his neck. "When can you start? I will help mother find your summer clothes in the attic, and pack the little black trunk. You are going to the tropics, you know."
"There is no hurry, my young fly-away. Matters are not in shape to go at a moment's notice."
He was not as deliberate as his words indicated. On the way to the coal office he bought a New York newspaper and turned to the shipping advertisements. A steamer was scheduled to sail direct to Colon that very afternoon at five o'clock, and there would be no more departures for several days. Mr. Goodwin
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