CHAPTER XII.
TOM’S JOURNEY.
AS TOM went home his mind was in a whirl of mingled excitement and bewilderment. Neither he nor any one else in the village had harbored a moment’s doubt on the subject of the wandering tramp. It was firmly believed that he had been consumed in the burning barn. Now it turned out that he was not a victim of the conflagration, but was alive and well in the city of New York.
“He must be better off than he was when I met him,” thought Tom, “or he wouldn’t be able to send me a ten-dollar bill.”
His thoughts recurred to the fire and to Darius Darke.
If the tramp had not accidentally set the old barn on fire, who had? Was it possible that Darius had set it on fire out of spite against the owner? This was hardly likely, since John Simpson had allowed him to sleep there, and probably given him money, which would account for his ability to send the ten-dollar bill.
Tom finally settled upon this theory. The tramp, he decided, had accidentally set the barn on fire while smoking, but had managed to escape. The fear of being charged with incendiarism would naturally prompt him to escape while he could. What Mr. Darke had to communicate to him he could not conjecture, but he was resolved to meet him at the time specified. It must be important, or he would not have offered to defray his expenses.
One difficulty presented itself. He was forbidden to mention the existence of Darius Darke. How, then, could he account to his mother for his wish to visit New York—a journey which he had never made alone? In fact, he had been in the great city but twice in his life.
It was now Thursday, and it was not necessary yet to mention the matter. He might think of some plausible pretext before Monday.
He did not wait in vain.
On Friday, when engaged in copying in the minister’s study, he overheard Mr. Julian say to his wife: