Robert did not refuse the invitation, for in truth he was hungry. Indeed he had never felt hungrier in his life. He was soon seated at the farmer's plain board, on which was spread a homely but abundant repast, to which he did full justice.
In the morning, after a refreshing sleep, he started anew on his journey. He tried to make the farmer accept payment for his hospitality, but without success, and with his scanty funds still entire, he resumed his walk.
CHAPTER XXI. MAJOR WOODLEY AND HIS DAUGHTER.
On the third day Robert reached the Ohio river, and was fortunate enough to intercept a steamer bound East. He went to the office, and found that his money would suffice to pay his fare to Wheeling, but would leave him nothing. This did not trouble him much. He had the sanguine and elastic temperament of youth, and he did not doubt that something would turn up.
"If I can't do any better," he resolved, "I will obtain work of some kind till I have laid by enough money to pay my passage for the remainder of the way. Or I can write to my guardian, and ask him to send me money enough to bring me to New York."
He had no idea how unwelcome this communication would be to his guardian, nor that by this time that guardian, having received James Cromwell's letter, supposed him dead.
On board the steamer he looked about him with a boy's curiosity, and as the boat proceeded he surveyed with interest the towns on either shore, at most of which the boat stopped.
Among the passengers his attention was drawn to a tall gentleman of bronzed complexion who had as a companion a young girl of about thirteen, whom he addressed as Edith. The young lady had a very sweet face, and Robert caught himself more than once wishing he had such a sister. Had he been older that is perhaps the last thing he would have desired. But he was only a boy of fourteen, and was of course too young to experience the sensation of being in love.