“Yes, sir.”
At the mention of this name, Tom Stanton, whose curiosity had led him to listen to the conversation, wheeled rapidly round on his stool and surveyed our hero with intense curiosity. He knew that Herbert Mason was the name of his cousin. Could it be possible that this boy was the cousin whom he had never seen? A little later, and he was convinced of it.
“You have just come from Ohio, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir.”
“My friend, Mr. Carroll, writes me that you were instrumental in saving him from being robbed while acting as his escort to Philadelphia.”
“It wasn't worth mentioning,” said Herbert modestly.
Mr. Godfrey noticed his modest tone, and it pleased him—modesty not being an unvarying characteristic of young America.
“My friend refers to it as an important service. I should like to know the particulars. Mr. Carroll is a connection of mine, and I am naturally interested in all that relates to him.”
In reply Herbert gave a brief, but clear and intelligent account of the attempted burglary, passing over his own achievement as lightly as possible. But it was easy to infer, even from the little he said, that he had acted with bravery and self-possession.
“You behaved in a very creditable manner,” said Mr. Godfrey, approvingly. “Many boys would have lost their self-possession. You have come to New York in search of employment, Mr. Carroll writes me?”