And now the question arose, What was he to do? For one instant the expedient of returning to the hotel and throwing himself on the good will of those he had left there suggested itself to him. But only for an instant.
The recollection of the scene he had quitted came back with all its vividness. No, he would not go back there.
He deserved all that had befallen him. He had been a fool ever to take up with Harrington. The fellow had only encouraged him because it flattered his vanity to be looked up to the way Rex had looked up to the collegian.
But he had no time now for self reproaches. He must decide what he should do.
He looked at his watch. It was ten minutes to one. He did not remember to have been up so late in his life. But he did not feel sleepy. He was far too excited for that.
“If I could only get back to Philadelphia,” was his thought.
He knew that the single fare was two dollars and a half. What if he bought a ticket to a place as far as his seventy-three cents would carry him? He would be that much nearer home at any rate.
But there were no trains at this time of night, What should he do with himself in the meantime? To pay for a night’s lodging would only still further deplete his scanty stock of cash.
Poor Rex felt as destitute, as desolate as any waif in all that great city. He had been cared for all his life, and now that he was suddenly thrown upon his own resources, he felt helpless, like a rudderless bark on a tossing sea.
For all he was much more ready to express an opinion than Roy, he had not half the push and energy of the latter, who, although quieter, was nevertheless the more determined character of the two.