"In that case she would come to him, for, with Mason dead, there would be nothing to keep her in China."
"That's so," said Rob, hopefully. "I hadn't thought of that. When do you think I can start, Uncle Will? I suppose we'll have to telegraph all the different companies to find out which of them sends out the first steamer."
"That would be expensive and take time," replied Mr. Hinckley. "I believe we can do better. The Post-Office Department keeps track of the sailing dates of all steamers that carry mails, in order that letters may be despatched as often and as quickly as possible. So, though our post-office must be closed by this hour, I will go over to Postmaster Garrett's house, and see if he hasn't a printed slip giving the sailing dates of Pacific steamers for the next few weeks. While I am gone, you and your aunt can be getting your things together ready for packing."
With this Mr. Hinckley was about to leave the house, when his wife said:
"Why, William, those post-office notices are always published in the Boston papers, and there is yesterday's lying on the table."
"So it is!" exclaimed Mr. Hinckley, picking up the paper as he spoke. "How stupid I am! Yes, here is the very thing we want: 'China and Japan, via Tacoma, mails close 5 P.M. on the 6th, steamship Oriental..' That is to-morrow, and it means that mails will be taken on the evening express which reaches Albany about midnight. There it meets and makes part of the New York night express for Chicago. From Chicago they will go to St. Paul, and then, by way of the Northern Pacific Coast, Limited, to Tacoma, reaching there on the 10th, which undoubtedly is the Oriental's sailing date. At any rate, Rob, so long as you go with the mail you are bound to be travelling the quickest possible way. To catch the Boston express, you must go to Albany by the noon train to-morrow. I shall go with you that far, and we will make all your ticket arrangements there."
Thus, within fifteen minutes from the time that fateful cablegram found Rob Hinckley quietly studying lessons for the morrow, and expecting to do little else for many months more, school had become a thing of the seemingly remote past, and he was a traveller bound on a journey that would take him half-way around the world. Moreover, the earlier details of this journey were already planned, and he was to set forth within a few hours. It is no wonder that he got but little sleep that night, nor that he was up at daylight packing his trunk and sorting out certain cherished possessions that he meant to distribute as keepsakes among his boy friends.
He went to school at the usual hour, but only to announce his departure to the masters, say good-bye, and collect his books. The head-master requested him to wait a few minutes and accompany him to the great hall where the entire school assembled for morning prayer. There, to Rob's embarrassment, he was conducted to a seat of honor on the platform, from which the master gave notice of his coming departure, stated its sad cause, said some very flattering things about Rob himself, and then asked the school to join him in an earnest prayer for their young friend's safety during the tremendous journey he was about to undertake, and that at its end he not only might find his dear father alive, but restored to health.
At the conclusion of this prayer tears stood in Rob's eyes and in those of many of his young friends as well. He wanted, before leaving, to say good-bye to the whole body of his school-mates, as he did not expect to see any of them again; but he did not exactly know how to do so, and was immensely relieved when the head-master further said:
"Robert is to leave Hatton by the noon train to-day, and in order that his friends here gathered may have the opportunity, which I am sure they desire, of bidding him farewell and seeing him off, all classes will be dismissed at eleven clock."