"Isn't there some one about the station who could give us some information?"
"I don't think there is. The ticket-seller that they bought their tickets from might tell you something, but he's off now; there is another man in his place."
Al and Mr. Wattles stared at each other in perplexity.
Just then a hang-dog looking young fellow of about Al's age came slouching up.
"Here, Smith," called out the station agent, "these folks want some information; perhaps you can give it to 'em. Tell this chap what you want, gents, and maybe he can help you out."
Al explained the situation to the fellow, who said, readily enough:
"Oh, yes; I remember that party."
"And which of the two trains did they take?"
"The one goin' to Boston."
"At last," exclaimed Mr. Wattles, "we have a little information. Now, then, my boy, what shall we do?"