"We shall meet again soon, I hope in New York."
Fred reached the inn at nine o'clock, left the amount of his bill in an envelope with the boy Jack, and walked over to the station, where he purchased a ticket for Ottawa. While he was in the depot building Bowman and the landlord drove by. Before they had reached the inn the train came up and Fred entered the rear car.
He breathed a sigh of relief as the cars quickened their speed and St. Victor faded in the distance.
Meanwhile Bowman and the landlord reached the hotel. Jack, the stable-boy, came forward and took charge of the team.
"Here is a letter for you, Mr. Bluff," he said.
"A letter!" repeated the landlord, with a look of wonder. He opened it and uttered a cry of surprise.
"The boy's gone!" he ejaculated.
"What boy?" asked Bowman, not suspecting the truth.
"Young Fenton."
"Gone away! What do you mean?"