Old man Tree had found a business chance awaiting him in the matter of supplying his relative's hotel with dairy products.

But Bonneville was not too far from San Francisco; the separation was by no means final.
The porters began taking up the steps that stood by the vestibule of each sleeping-car.
"Well, have a good time, daughter," observed her father; "and come up to see us whenever you can." From beyond the enclosure of the depot's reverberating roof came the measured clang of a bell.
"I guess we're off," cried Annixter.

"Good-bye, Mrs.Tree." "Remember your promise, Hilma," her mother hastened to exclaim, "to write every Sunday afternoon." There came a prolonged creaking and groan of straining wood and iron work, all along the length of the train.

They all began to cry their good-byes at once.

The train stirred, moved forward, and gathering slow headway, rolled slowly out into the sunlight.