“Don’t give him a hint about me,” cautioned Bob, as the other placed himself at the table.
The letter, whose contents have already been known to the reader, was written in the room of the Astor House where the other to Captain Budd was formulated. Then Jim placed the two in his pocket and rose to go.
“Won’t you come and stay at our house?” he asked of Bob.
“Thanks, no; I’ll remain here; you can understand that it would be a little embarrassing to meet your folks just now. When matters are straightened out I will give you a call, and you will come down and spend a week or two at Piketon.”
“That’s a bargain, provided it is not in the character of a Piketon Ranger,” replied Jim, with a laugh.
Shaking the hand of his friend he took his departure.
That afternoon when Bob strolled up Broadway, he reflected that it was the most enjoyable hour he had spent since his visit to the metropolis. He feared no one now, and his future was brighter than he ever dreamed it could be.
When the telegram from Dick Halliard reached Jim McGovern, making known on what train he would reach New York, he drove down to the Astor House and took Bob to his own home, where he left him in the library while he hastened to the station for Dick.
We have already given a hint about their meeting, when Dick received the greatest shock in all his life. For a few minutes he doubted his own senses, but that it was the real Bob Budd before him he was compelled to admit, after shaking his hand, looking in his laughing face, and hearing his voice.
The three sat for a couple of hours discussing the subject which was nearest to each one’s heart. Then Jim took his two friends out riding in the Park, for it happened to be one of the most delightful of autumn days. In the evening the family of Mr. McGovern made the acquaintance of Dick and Bob, and the three visited a place of entertainment.