“Every red cent. He didn’t even leave me my pocket-knife or note-book.”
“Your case is a hard one, that’s a fact, and I will do what I can for you,” said the agent. “You may sit in this room to-night. That fellow will probably go to Oxford, and if I can get the operator there to respond to my call, I’ll tell him to put the police on the look-out. To-morrow I will send an alarm all along the line.”
“I am much obliged to you,” said Huggins, gratefully. “I may some day be able to repay you for your kindness.”
“That’s all right. Good night.”
The agent went out, and the runaway drew one of the chairs up in front of the stove and sat down in it. He was provided for for the night, but what should he do when morning came? Should he stay there at the tank-station and look for work, or would it be better for him to start for Oxford on foot, begging his meals as he went like any other tramp? That was what he intended to do when he first made up his mind to desert the academy, and he could not see that there was any other course open to him now. While he was thinking about it, he fell asleep. He did not know when the lightning express and the fast freight went through, but he heard the whistle of the morning train, and hurried to the door to see the accommodation approaching. He saw something else, too—something that put life and energy into him, and sent him around the corner of the building out of sight.
“They are after me already,” said he, as he hurried along a road that led from the station into the woods. “I saw their uniform caps sticking out of the window.”
If he had waited a few minutes longer he would have seen Captain Mack and Sergeant Gordon step upon the platform and run toward the agent’s office.
“Did you say he was a tall young fellow with a little mustache, and that he wore a dark-blue overcoat, Arctic shoes and seal-skin furs? He’s the very chap. Come with me. He was fast asleep in a chair in the waiting-room not more than half an hour ago. There is his chair,” said the agent, as he opened the door, “but he has skipped out, as sure as the world.”
“Have you any idea where he is?” asked the young captain.
“I think he must have gone to Carbondale,” replied the agent. “But see here, boys: you needn’t waste any time in looking for a fellow in a blue overcoat and seal-skin furs, for the police will take care of him. You want to keep your eyes open for a chap in a patched and torn broad-cloth coat and a slouch hat without any brim to it. You see——”