While waiting in Chesterton, Harvey wrote a letter to his father, giving a full account of the recovery of little Grace Hastings, her restoration to her parents and the capture of the two surviving members of the Black Hand, which, as has been stated, was duly followed by their sentence to long terms in the penitentiary. This letter was crossed by one from his father, which confirmed the explanation made by Mr. Pendar of the wrecking of the first aeroplane. He had received quick notice of the misfortune from Professor Morgan, and sympathizing with his son had provided him with a second flying machine in record time. When a young man who took an aerial ride with Harvey told him he had seen the two supposed commercial travelers in the vicinity of the hotel sheds at daylight of the eventful morning, the last shadow of doubt was removed as to the identity of the offenders.
Mr. Hastings paid over the entire reward to Simmons Pendar, who would have insisted that one-half of the large sum should go to Harvey Hamilton, had the latter not notified him that any such proposition would be accepted as an insult.
Despite a feeling of vexation, Harvey became so concerned over Bohunkus that he finally telegraphed to Mr. Cecil Hartley, the farmer to whom the colored boy had been bound years before, and asked whether he was at home. The reply was that he had not been seen since he left in the aeroplane with Harvey. This was disquieting news and the youth did not know what to make of it. Had not Detective Pendar been absent just then he would have applied to him for counsel. Enlightenment, however, came from an unexpected quarter.
It was on the evening of the second day, after the guests at the hotel had eaten supper and left the dining-room, that the landlord came out and sat down near Harvey, who occupied a chair at the farther end of the porch. The boniface was chuckling as if in good humor over something. Harvey wondered what it could be.
“You ain’t worrying about that darkey of yours?” was the first question.
“I am not worried so much as I am curious,” replied the youth; “he took offense the other day because I reproved him for an act of stupidity, but it is not his nature to sulk so long. I thought he had gone home, but learned a short while ago that he hasn’t been there.”
“Oh, no; he’s a long way from home by this time.”
“Do you know where he is?” asked the startled Harvey.
“Not precisely, but I reckon I can make a good guess.”
“Please do so.”