“Here comes Andy, and he looks as if he has enjoyed his supper first-rate, too,” Rob remarked. “I hope he doesn’t let them get him into conversation for an entering wedge. I forgot to warn him about that.”
Apparently Andy was wise enough on his own account to know the folly of such a move, as he pushed past the two men, paying no attention even when one of them plucked at his sleeve.
“One more hour and we’ll be there, the conductor told me,” he announced.
“Then we must be about on time, according to the schedule,” said Hiram, who had worn his time-table almost to shreds by consulting it so often on the long journey from New York City.
They proceeded to get all their belongings in shape, so there would be nothing to delay them, once the station was reached. Rob had decided to take a carriage to the Hotel Alexandria, and thus avoid all possible contact with strangers.
When the porter announced that they were entering Los Angeles there was considerable confusion, as passengers caught up such of their hand luggage as had not been already piled near the door by the porter.
Rob had resolutely declined to let the negro touch his suitcase, though his liberal tip to the man made him eager to be of some assistance. The boy knew that at this point there was apt to crop up a crisis; and also that the good record held up to that time might be shattered through any carelessness on his part.
Consequently, he held fast to his grip as he followed Hiram out of the car, this mode of procedure having all been settled upon beforehand. It gave Rob a chance to keep his eagle eye on the figure of Hiram; and so long as he was able to do that he did not believe the other could be spirited away, or his pocket picked.
“Look out for getting in a crush, Hiram,” Rob whispered in the other’s ear as they passed along the narrow corridor.
“They went out ahead of us, Rob,” Hiram informed him, as he turned his head.