It was mid-afternoon when Pen reached Lowbridge, and he went at once to the Starbird mill on the outskirts of the town. He caught sight of Robert Starbird in the mill-yard, and went over to him. The man did not at first recognize him.
"I'm Penfield Butler," said the boy, "with whom you were talking last week."
"Oh, yes. Now I know you. You look a little different, some way. I've been watching out for you. How did you make out with your Grandpa Walker?"
"Well, Grandpa Walker found it a little hard to take up the work I'd been doing, but he was quite willing I should come, and helped me very much."
"I see." An amused twinkle came into the man's eyes; just such a twinkle as had come into the eyes of Henry Cobb that morning on the way to Chestnut Hill.
"Well," he added, "I guess it's all right. Come over to the office. We'll see what we can do for you."
They crossed the mill-yard and entered the office. An elderly, benevolent looking man with white side-whiskers, wearing a Grand Army button on the lapel of his coat, was seated at a table, writing. Three or four clerks were busy at their desks, and a girl was working at a type-writer in a remote corner of the room.
"Major Starbird," said the man who had brought Pen in, "this is the boy whom I told you last week I had hired as a bobbin-boy. He's a grandson of Enos Walker out at Cobb's Corners."
The man with white side-whiskers laid down his pen, removed his glasses, and looked up scrutinizingly at Pen.
"Yes," he said, "I know Mr. Walker."