"I don't go there for enjoyment. My visit may cheer the poor man."
"All right! I'll see if the landlord isn't going to drive somewhere."
"I hope he is," thought Fred. "It will get Bowman out of the way."
About half-past two Bowman entered the public room where Fred was reading.
"I'm going for a drive," he announced. "I'll see you at supper."
"Very well!"
Fred waited till Bowman drove out of the yard, and then, taking his gun, went off himself. But he did not turn his steps in the direction of Sinclair's cottage. He had ascertained that there was a way of going by land to that part of the woods where he had met his young companion of the morning. He had made up his mind to repair to the spot now on the chance of finding the boy, and securing the bonds that very afternoon. He felt that there was no time to be lost.
It would have been easier and shorter to take the boat, and the landlord would have made no objection. But some one might see him out on the lake, and this would excite Bowman's suspicions, especially when he discovered that the bonds were missing. So Fred chose the land route as the wiser one to take under the circumstances.
The distance was quite two miles, but Fred did not mind that. The prize for which he was striving was too great for him to shrink from such a trifle as that.
He reached the other side of the pond, but no one was in sight. He walked about anxiously looking here and there.