The day was a perfect one when they left, the air full of bright sunshine and the music of the birds which had made Valley Brook their summer home for many years. Mrs. Rover saw them to the carriage, while Anderson Rover waved them a serious adieu from his bedroom window. Poor Randolph Rover was as feverish as ever, and knew nothing of their coming or their going. All of the boys were half afraid they would never again see their uncle alive.
But youth is strong and hopeful, and by the time they had entered the cars and made themselves comfortable the scenes around them engrossed their attention, and the past was forgotten for the time being. The train was an express, and flew along at the rate of sixty miles an hour.
"We'll be in Chicago by this time to-morrow," said Dick. "It's quick traveling, isn't it?"
"I hope we are fortunate enough to catch Jack Wumble," said Tom.
"I don't want to lose time in Chicago hunting him up."
The car was but half filled, so that the boys had several seats all to themselves. They had brought with them a map of Colorado, and they spent much of the day in studying this.
When it came time for dinner they entered the dining car. They could not get seats together, and so Tom was compelled to sit opposite to a burly fellow whose appearance did not strike him as altogether favorable.
"Bound for Chicago?" asked the man, after passing the time of day.
"Yes, sir," answered Tom. "Are you bound there?"
"I am going through that city. You belong there, I suppose?"
"No, sir, I've never been there before."