This was a youth whose hair, even in the early morning light, displayed all the fiery hue of sunrise. It was Scorch—but for once Scorch was just too late.
Nancy and Jennie were out of sight with the “man in gray” before the boy reached the railway station in answer to Nancy’s telegram.
Mr. Montgomery escorted the two girls to a cab standing in a dark street. It seemed to have been waiting some time, for its engine was not running and the chauffeur was pacing the walk.
Possibly Mr. Montgomery had done some telegraphing ahead, too.
“Get right in here, girls,” he said. “Lucky I was coming on the same train with you. Your folks will certainly be worried about you.”
“Now, wasn’t that a funny thing for him to say?” asked Jennie, as she stepped in after Nancy.
There was no chance for Nancy to reply, however, for Mr. Montgomery was close upon their heels. The chauffeur jumped to his seat, the door slammed, and the cab was off.
“How far is it to Garvan’s Hotel?” asked Nancy.
“It’s some distance,” replied Mr. Montgomery. “I only hope Gordon is not hurt as badly as the paper says. Of course, if he is in the hands of doctors and nurses they may refuse to let any of us see him.”
“Oh! I hope not!” exclaimed Nancy.