“My name is Bob Archer,” readily responded the other; “and my home used to be in Kentucky. My chum has always lived here in the cow and mining country. His father owns a big ranch; and we’re right now on the way to the Cherry Blossom Mine on business. His name is Haywood—Frank Haywood.”
Bob heard the man give a low cry, and saw him staring, as though the mention of that name had given him a great shock!
CHAPTER IV
THE MYSTERY OF THE PACKET
Bob was not a suspicious boy by nature. Consequently, the first thought that occurred to him was that the wrecked balloonist must have been seized with a sudden acute twinge of pain.
“Does it hurt so bad as that?” he asked, tenderly.
The other shut his teeth hard together, winked a few times, and then seemed able to master his emotions.
“I never had such pain in all my life,” he said, in a voice that shook. “But it’s gone again now, and I feel easier. Bob, you said your name was, and his Frank Haywood. His father, then, must be the Colonel Haywood I’ve heard talked about as one of the richest men in this section.”
“That’s Frank’s father, all right, Mr. Scott,” Bob went on, adding enthusiastically, “and Frank’s the best chum I ever knew in all my life; as good-hearted as the day is long, loyal and brave. When he saw your trouble he would have risked his life, if necessary, to help you; but then, that’s Frank Haywood, every time.”
The balloonist shifted his glance toward Frank, who was just then pouring himself out a cup of coffee.
“And me a stranger, too!” he muttered, turning strangely red in the face, Bob thought, and also swallowing something that seemed to come up in his throat.