He entered, bought some rolls, and obtained a glass of milk, and, fortified with these, he resumed his journey.
He had walked three miles, when he was over-taken by a farm wagon, which was going his way.
He hailed the driver—a young man of nineteen or thereabouts—ascertained that he was driving to Knoxville, and, for a small sum, secured passage there.
This brings us to the point of time when Philip and Mr. Gates drove up to the hotel at Knoxville.
“I can see the professor,” said Philip, in eager excitement, when they had come within a few rods of the inn.
“Where is he?”
“He is in the office, sitting with his back to the front window. I wonder what he will have to say for himself?”
“So do I,” said the landlord curiously.
“Shall we go in together?” questioned Philip.
“No; let us surprise him a little. I will drive around to the sheds back of the hotel, and fasten my horse. Then we will go round to the front, and you can go in, while I stand outside, ready to appear a little later.”