But you looks powerful bad." Lane crossed the station platform, and the railroad yard and tracks, to make a short cut in the direction of his home.

He shrank from meeting any one.

He had not sent word just when he would arrive, though he had written his mother from New York that it would be soon, He was glad that no one belonging to him had been at the station.

He wanted to see his mother in his home.

Walking fast exhausted him, and he had to rest.