“All right! You had better not ask your father, for I don’t think he would tell you.”
“That’s so. He will be going out this evening, and then I will search in his desk. I saw a letter there once in which the boy’s name was mentioned. But I say, if you’ve got money why don’t you buy some new clothes?”
“Your suggestion is a good one,” said Bolton, smiling. “Come to look at myself I do appear shabby. But then I’m no dude. I dare say when you rode into me this morning you took me for a tramp.”
“Well, you did look like one.”
“That’s so. I can’t blame you.”
“Shall I find you at the hotel this evening?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll see what I can do.”
About seven o’clock Squire Ray went out to attend to a business meeting, and Clarence was left in possession of the study. He locked the door, and began to ransack his father’s desk. At length he succeeded in his quest.
Benjamin Bolton was sitting in the public-room of the hotel an hour later, smoking a cigar, and from time to time looking toward the door. Presently Clarence entered.