“No; I intend to get that in New York to-morrow. The steamer sails for Aspinwall on Wednesday.”
The two boys talked the matter over for some time. Gus was intensely interested.
“Well, I hope you’ll meet with success,” he said on parting. “I think it is a big undertaking for a boy, but I wish it was I instead of you.”
The remainder of the Sunday passed quickly. In the evening Oliver spent another pleasant hour with his father.
When the time came for parting, the boy could hardly keep back the tears. Who knew how long it would be before he should see his father again? He was almost tempted to tell all, but the fear of being told to give up the project kept back the words.
Oliver slept but little that night, and he was up at early dawn. Making a hasty toilet, he took up his valise and stole down-stairs. Mrs. Hanson had anticipated him, and a warm breakfast stood ready to which he did but scant justice.
Half an hour later he was off, the housekeeper wishing him Godspeed. The railroad station was half a mile distant; but it took the boy scarcely any time to cover that distance, so fearful was he of being discovered and told to return.
Rockvale was a town of considerable size, situated some forty miles from the metropolis. There were over a dozen trains daily to Jersey City, the first at half-past six in the morning. This was the one Oliver had calculated on taking, and buying a ticket, he waited a few moments, and then, as the train came rolling in, got aboard.
There was a sudden jerk, and the train started and rolled out away from the station. Oliver Bright was off on his strange quest at last.