CAPTAIN VILLAIRE'S LITTLE PLOT
Dick was right: the boy in the reading-room' was indeed Dan Baxter, but so changed in appearance that for the minute neither Tom nor Sam recognized him.
In the past Baxter had always been used to fine clothing, which he had taken care should be in good repair. Now his clothing was dilapidated and his shoes looked as if they were about ready to fall apart.
More than this, his face was hollow and careworn, and one eye looked as if it had suffered severe blow of some sort. Altogether he was most wretched-looking specimen of humanity, and it was a wonder that he was allowed at the hotel. But the truth of the matter was that he had told the proprietor a long tale of sufferings in the interior and of a delayed remittance from home, and the hotel keeper was keeping him solely on this account.
"How he is changed!" muttered Tom. "He looks like a regular tramp!"
"He's been in hard luck, that's certain," came from Sam. "I wonder how he drifted out here?"
While Sam was speaking Dan Baxter raised his eyes from the newspaper and glanced around. As his gaze fell upon the three Rover boys he started and the paper fell to the floor, then he got up and strode toward them.
"Dick Rover!" he cried. "Where did you fellows come from?"
"From Putnam Hall, Baxter," answered Dick quietly. "And what brought you here?"
Ordinarily Dan Baxter would have retorted that that was none of Dick's business, but now he was in thoroughly low spirits, and he answered meekly: