“What are your plans? Where do you mean to go?” asked the farmer.
“I don’t know, sir. I shall make up my mind as I go along. I think I can make my living somehow.”
“Wait here five minutes,” said Lovett, and he went into an adjoining room.
Within the time mentioned, he returned, holding in his hand a sealed letter.
“Philip,” he said, “put this envelope in your pocket, and don’t open it till you are fifty miles from here.”
“Very well, sir,” answered Philip, rather puzzled, but not so much surprised as he might have been if he had not known the farmer’s reputation for eccentricity.
“I suppose it contains some good advice,” he thought. “Well, good advice is what I need.”
The two boys went home immediately upon leaving the farmhouse. Though so much had happened, it was not late, being not quite half-past nine.
Philip received a cordial welcome from Mr. and Mrs. Dunbar, who, however, hardly expected to see him so soon. “Are you willing to receive a pauper beneath your roof?” asked Philip, smiling.
“That you will never be while you have health and strength, I’ll be bound,” said Mr. Dunbar. “I like your pride and independence, Philip.”