By the time we had reached our destination, I was bursting with merriment, and he, with newly acquired knowledge.
I had made no attempt to extract information concerning Ed. Dwight, on the route. I hoped soon to interview that gentleman in propriæ personæ, and any knowledge not to be gained from the interview I could "sound" for on the return drive.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A SEWING MACHINE AGENT.
On arriving within sight of Amora, I had reason to congratulate myself that I had brought Larkins along as convoy.
Amora was by no means a city, but it was large enough to make a search after Mr. Dwight a proceeding possibly lengthy, and perhaps difficult.
Larkins knew all about it. We drove past the Seminary, quite a large and imposing structure, surrounded by neat and tastefully laid out grounds, through a cheery-looking business street, and across a bridge, over a hill, and thence down a street which, while it was clean, well built, and thrifty of aspect, was evidently not the abode of Amora's la beau monde.
In another moment Larkins was pulling in his reins before a large, unpainted dwelling, in front of which stood a pole embellished with the legend, "Boarding House."
Several inquiring faces could be seen through the open windows, and the squeak of an untuneful violin smote our ears, as we approached the door.