“How could he have got track of you?”
“Freed Wentworth must have told him I was here. You see, I forgot to tell Freed not to speak of seeing me. Do you think he can carry me back?”
“I’ll tell you what to do, Bernard. Go back to the river side, and I will go forward and meet him. When the coast is clear I will go and find you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Mr. Snowdon and Septimus had driven up five minutes before. They left the horse standing in front of the hotel and entered.
“How do you do, Mr. Snowdon?” said the landlord. “What brings you here?”
“I am after a runaway boy—one of my pupils. I heard he was here.”
“There is one boy staying here, but he came with a gentleman whom I took for his guardian.”
“What’s his name? Let me look at your book.” Ezekiel Snowdon ran down the page with his lean forefinger. Finally he came to the following entries:
William Penrose, Buffalo.