"If I can only succeed in my mission!" he thought. "If I can only find Ralph Harding, and induce him to vindicate my father's reputation, I shall feel happy!"
It so happened that he had seated himself in the smoking car, the car behind, which he first entered, being full.
A tall, thin man, wearing a white hat, sat down beside him.
"Have a cigar, young man?" he asked, as he produced two of rather poor quality, one of which he lighted and proceeded to smoke.
"No, thank you, sir."
"Better accept a good offer," urged the stranger.
"Thank you, but I don't smoke."
"Indeed! How old are you?"
"I am sixteen," replied Bert.
"Then you are a rara avis—that means a rare bird. Most boys of your age smoke."