He had heard nothing from Tom since their parting, and had given up all expectation of meeting him again; but that bad penny maxim proved true once more, for, as he was walking through one of the streets of Augusta, he had the misfortune to meet him—and this time it was indeed a misfortune.
"Hallo, Bobby!" shouted the runaway, as familiarly as though nothing had happened to disturb the harmony of their relations.
"Ah, Tom, I didn't expect to see you again," replied Bobby, not very much rejoiced to meet his late companion.
"I suppose not; but here I am, as good as new. Have you sold out?"
"No, not quite."
"How many have you left?"
"About twenty; but I thought, Tom, you would have returned to Boston before this time."
"No;" and Tom did not seem to be in very good spirits.
"Where are you going now?"
"I don't know. I ought to have taken your advice, Bobby."