"Ain't you Mark Mason?" he asked.
"Yes; how did you know me?"
"Your picture is in the paper."
Mark opened the paper in natural excitement, and being a modest boy, blushed as he saw his picture staring at him from the front page, labeled underneath "The Heroic Telegraph Boy." He read the account, which was quite correctly written, with a mixture of emotions, among which gratification predominated.
"But where did they get my picture?" he asked himself.
There was also a picture of the dynamite crank, which was also tolerably accurate.
"I must take this home to mother," said Mark, folding up the paper. "Won't she be surprised!"
About the same time Solon Talbot and Edgar were in the Grand Central Depot on Forty-Second Street. Their visit was over, and Mr. Talbot had purchased the return tickets.
"You may buy a couple of evening papers, Edgar," said his father.
One of them selected was the Evening Globe.