David caught the early
morning stage and was on his way over the ridge to the railroad with
old Jeff, before eight o'clock.
He reached home that night, surprising the housekeeper and servants.
To his amazement, they knew absolutely nothing of Dick Cronk. He had
not been there, nor any one answering to the description. David was
thunderstruck. He carefully examined the letter, which he had
retained. There could be no mistake as to the stationery or the
postmark. He went to his room, gravely mystified by the circumstance.
A messenger was sent post haste to the village hard by, with
instructions to find Dick if he were at either of the boarding-houses.
The master of Jenison Hall could not help chuckling to himself in
contemplation of the crafty tricks the writer of the letter had
employed in securing his information and in appropriating stationery.
It was nearly eleven o'clock when the darky boy returned with the word
that no one fitting the description had been seen in the village.
"But he must be there," said the young master, vastly perplexed and
not a little annoyed.
"Yas, sah," agreed the darky, not for a moment questioning the
assertion that fell from his master's lips.
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