As they left the house they did not notice that they were being watched by a young man on the other side of Riverside Drive. This young man followed the car to the nearest corner, and then summoned a taxicab that was passing, leaped in, and followed them.
“You can wait here for us, Peter,” said Jack to the family chauffeur. “I don’t think we’ll be very long,” and thereupon he and his cousins started to enter the ticket agency.
As the four Rovers crossed the pavement in the crowd a young man suddenly stepped up and confronted them.
“Hello!” he exclaimed cordially. “Am I mistaken, or is this Jack Rover?”
“I’m Jack Rover, all right enough,” answered the young major.
“And this is Fred, isn’t it?” went on the stranger, smiling at the youngest member of the crowd.
“Yes, I’m Fred Rover,” was the reply. “But—but I’m afraid you’ve got the best of me,” Fred stammered. He thought the fellow’s face looked a bit familiar, but he could not place him.
“Why, I’m Joe Brooks,” said the stranger. “Don’t you remember? Fatty Hendry introduced us one day when you were over at Haven Point—the day of the big football game last year. I was over there with Fatty and a fellow named Ned Lowe, a great singer.”
“Are you the fellow who had the stiff neck and was wearing a silk neckerchief?” questioned Randy.
“Now you’ve got my number,” answered Joe Brooks. “What are you fellows doing down here? I thought you were up at the military academy?”