Tracy finished writing his telegram and waited, still waited, and still waited, for that performance to finish, but there didn't seem to be any finish to it; so finally Tracy said: "Can't you take my telegram ?" The youth looked over his shoulder and said, by his manner, not his words: "Don't you think you could wait a minute, if you tried ?" However, he got the shoe tied at last, and came and took the telegram, glanced over it, then looked up surprised, at Tracy.

There was something in his look that bordered upon respect, almost reverence, it seemed to Tracy, although he had been so long without anything of this kind he was not sure that he knew the signs of it.
The boy read the address aloud, with pleased expression in face and voice.
"The Earl of Rossmore! Cracky! Do you know him ?" "Yes." "Is that so! Does he know you ?" "Well--yes." "Well, I swear! Will he answer you ?" "I think he will." "Will he though?
Where'll you have it sent ?" "Oh, nowhere.

I'll call here and get it.

When shall I call ?" "Oh, I don't know--I'll send it to you.

Where shall I send it?
Give me your address; I'll send it to you soon's it comes." But Tracy didn't propose to do this.