“Haven’t you heard anything from him since he left?” asked Herbert.
“Yes,” she replied, holding her head down. “He has written to me twice, each time to ask me for money.”
“And you gave it to him?” inquired Herbert.
“Yes,” she replied. “Perhaps it was wrong; but I could not refuse it. He did not give any address, but had the mail sent to the General Delivery window of the main post office building.”
“Well, Mary,” said Herbert, “I assure you that if I am ever in a position to assist you either in Arthur’s case, or in any other manner, I will be only too glad to do so.”
They had reached the station by this time, and in a moment or two were joined by Noah Brooks, who insisted on coming along to say good-by to his much valued assistant and associate editor.
Brooks was silent for some time, but his face showed the feeling that he was endeavoring to repress. Going over to Herbert, he put his arm around his shoulder in an affectionate manner, and said:
“My boy, I have to thank you for the fidelity you have always shown to my interests. I don’t know what in the world I’ll do without you; indeed I don’t.”
Just then the train pulled in at the station and Herbert, after a last good-by, jumped aboard. The engine pulled out quickly, and the young man standing on the rear platform, shook his handkerchief in farewell to his mother and friends. As the train gradually put distance between itself and Cleverly, Herbert was filled with a strange emotion which he could not understand. He was leaving the home of his birth and his youth, and his heart was strangely touched at the thought. The train puffed on, and soon the little group on the station became mere specks in the distance; but the last thing that Herbert saw was the trim figure and the two bright eyes, half dimmed with tears, belonging to Mary Black.