"Yes. Very well. Anything else?"
"No, sir," answered Sam, and then he wrote out the check and got his money. A little later, after a hasty supper, he started to pack his suitcase with such things as he thought he might need for the trip to Chicago.
He was in the midst of his labors when Songbird came in, followed by Spud, Stanley, Max and several others. All wanted to assist him, yet they could do little. Each was deeply sympathetic.
"It's too bad, Sam," said Spud. "I hope you catch Tom before he has a chance to leave Chicago. Why when a chap gets out of his mind there is no telling what he'll do, or where he'll go."
"Oxactly so," came from Max. "I knowed a man vonce dot goes his mind owid. He took an axe, and—veil neffer mind, Dom ton't do nuddings like dot anyvay," added the German-American student hastily, after a warning look from Songbird.
"I think that moving picture must have hit Tom hard," said Stanley. "It was so lifelike. He talked about it a great deal."
"Yes, he couldn't forget it. He even talked about it in his sleep," returned Sam. "He wanted to go out and get those nuggets of gold."
"Well, I'd like some nuggets myself," cried Spud. "But I am not going to the ice fields of Alaska for 'em," he added, grimly, and this caused a faint smile to spread on some of the boys' faces.
Songbird had received permission to accompany Sam to Ashton, and at nine o'clock the youths were on the way, in a carriage driven by one of the college drivers. They went directly to the depot, there to await the arrival of the train that was to bring Dick.
It was a cold, disagreeable evening, with a promise of rain in the air. The boys were glad enough to go into the station, which was kept open for the coming of the late train.