“Yes, but in different ways,” returned Sam.
“Well, neither of ’em shall get his hands on a dollar—if I can help it,” answered Dick.
“I should think Crabtree would be ashamed to show himself,” went on Sam. “If I was in his place, I’d travel to some new part of the globe, change my name, and make a new try at living.”
“In one way I am sorry for him,” was Dick’s comment. “A man coming out of prison hasn’t much chance to get work. Nobody will trust him, no matter if he does want to be honest.”
“Do you suppose Crabtree has any money?” asked Tom.
“I don’t know, I’m sure.”
At last they were only a few miles from Oak Run, and they gathered up the few things they were carrying, fishing rods, cameras, and a small valise.
“Oak Run!” cried the porter.
“Here we are!” exclaimed Tom, the first to get off. “I don’t see anything of Jack Ness,” he added, mentioning the hired man from the farm, who usually came for them with the team.
“He may be a little late—Jack often is,” answered Dick.