Page:The Star in the Window.pdf/331

Rh The "Ellen T. Robinson" had probably just arrived in San Francisco. Upon re-reading Nathan's note, Reba concluded that he had not yet offered his services officially to his country. It would be in the navy, of course, that he, a sailor, would enlist. It occurred to her that if she didn't write immediately some great monster of the ocean might carry Nathan out of her reach completely. She mustn't lose even a day! Already it might be too late. Every moment was precious. She glanced at the clock.

The eight-thirty train connected with the western mail-train. Twenty-four whole hours would be saved if she could get a letter onto that. It was eight-fifteen now. She reached for a piece of paper.

She read it through. It wasn't insistent enough—not half. It might not bring him, and if it didn't—if it didn't she could never wipe her slate clean.

She glanced up again at the clock, then bent impulsively.

"P.S.: Please come. Please come. Please come," she wrote three times over, as a child with a limited vocabulary makes rows of stars and circles.