It was about two o'clock in the afternoon, but so anxious had the boys become in the last stage of their journey that they had ordered Elmer to put off the noonday meal until they reached Clarkeville. The colored boy, troubled over the notion of a good dinner spoiling, was waiting on the car platform for it chance to get his "bosses," as he delighted to call them, into the car.
Before he could do so, and while the two chums were answering idle questions as to whether they were a "show," Ned's quick eye caught sight of a more important personage. A middle-aged man, not quite so western in appearance as the others, but plainly as much at home in the saddle, rode up with a clatter and sprang from his pony.
Ned advanced quickly, spurred on by the new arrival's quick "Howdy, strangers!"
"My name is Ned Napier," explained the lad, "and this is my friend, Alan Hope."
The rider held out his hand.
"I'm Curt Bradley, and I'm the mayor of this town," he replied by way of introduction.
"Glad to meet you," answered Ned. "You've just saved me the trouble of looking you up, for that would have been my first business."
"Not to be over cur'ous," laughed the Mayor as his eyes took in the big expensive car and then returned to the two boys, "might I inquire the nature o' yer business."
Ned laughed.
"Certainly," he answered, "but come aboard first. Elmer," he said to the waiting cook, waiter and porter, "another plate for Mr. Bradley."