“There were other fellows on it,” said Philip. “In the crowd hurrying to it when the whistle blew he probably took another couple that we saw for Gerald and me. Otherwise, I believe, he would have jumped off.”
“By the time he found out his carelessness he couldn’t. However, if he had met you in New York, my lad, and prevented your coming here to me he could yet get hold of that money. Down at one or the other passenger-station I don’t doubt that he hung about waiting for you. We’ll find out if your telegrams were called for. George can go and ask about that for us.”
“After we had met him in New York, sir, he would have robbed us?”
“Certainly, if he couldn’t manage it before. He could have taken you to his quarters. (Likely they are handsome enough, as he said, and they may be not far from where we sit to-night.) There he would have given you, probably, a better supper than I have, added a dose to insure your sleeping, robbed you, and found means to get rid of you, very likely without injuring you, before morning.” (Mr. Hilliard did not choose to suggest any other notion than that “very likely without injuring you;” but he had others.) “He would contrive it so that you could never have him traced out. It’s not a rare scheme, remember, though its bad enough to think about.”
“Then it was just a clever plan to rob two boys?” Philip asked, tapping his fingers on the table reflectively. Was he, or was he not, quite satisfied of it?
“Positively. Nothing more romantic, I am sure,” responded Mr. Hilliard. “I must say I think that sufficiently exciting to satisfy most people. You will not be likely to hear of him again; I may.”
Mr. Hilliard touched his bell. George came in. “I shall want you to mail these letters at once,” said his master; “and these must go by hand to the newspaper-offices addressed.”
Each envelope contained a notice cautioning all persons against putting any confidence in the pseudo Hilliard, whom the advertisement briefly described, denouncing him in the usual form.
“Now for bed!” ejaculated the boys’ host as George vanished. “Excitement has kept you from realizing how your journey has tired you. I am glad that Gerald was so used up. There is no need to tell all our disagreeable theories to so young a boy as he. We must try to get the thing out of his head to-morrow.”
Philip said good-night and closed his door. Gerald lay sound asleep. He stood beside the bed watching the younger boy’s regular breathing. He did not know it, but such moments when he, as it were, struck a balance between Gerald and himself, and appreciated how Gerald depended upon him for society and care, were already moments that converted the manly metal in Philip into finest steel to cleave and endure.