a pass home.

I'll never forget the day when Banks came back to Homeburg. He hadn't
been back for thirty years and hadn't the slightest intention of coming
either, as he admitted afterward. But he was going through on his
special car, and old Number Eleven, which was hauling him, performed the
most intelligent act of its career. The engine broke down right at the
depot, and when Banks found he was in for an hour or two, he got out and
strolled down Main Street to see the town in which he had begun his
life.

It was a most depressing occasion. No one who had ever come back had
changed as much as Banks. If he had worn a pigtail and talked Choctaw,
he couldn't have grown farther away. It wasn't his fault. He tried his
best. But he hadn't talked our language for years. He couldn't get down
near enough to converse. He passed most of his playmates without
remembering them, but when he saw Pash Wade's sign, he went in and shook
hands with him. About forty of us came in to trade and watched him do
it. It was pathetic. They stood there like strangers from different
lands, Banks trying to unbutton his huge, thick ulster of dignity, and
not succeeding, and Pash trying to say something that would interest
Banks--along the line of high finance of course--state of the country,
etc. They gave it up in a minute, and Banks went out. He found Pelty
Amthorne and shook hands with him. Pelty is pretty loquacious as a rule,
but he couldn't talk to Banks--not that Banks, anyway. He'd never seen
him before. He said "How-dy-do," and, "It's a long time since you were
here," and Banks said, "It is indeed. I hope you and your family are
well." And then Pelty oozed hastily back into the crowd with a relieved
air as if he had done his duty, and Banks looked bored and took out his
watch. But just then Sim Askinson came up all out of breath and burst
through the crowd.

Sim is little and meek and has a hard time holding his own, even in our
peaceful world. But when he saw Banks, he snorted like a war horse and
grew up three inches.

"Hello, Pudge, you old son-of-a-gun!" he said, with both hands in his
pockets.

"Hello, Sim!" said Banks, sort of startled.

"Where'd you come from?" demanded Sim, "and why ain't you come before?
You're a nice friendly cuss, you are. Sucked any turkey eggs lately?"

"No, you knock-kneed dishwasher," said Banks as a grin began to edge its
way across his face. "Have you tried to sell any more toads for
bullfrogs?"