And, after much excitement, Andy and his chums found themselves in the same car bound for Dunmore. They settled back in their seats with sighs of relief.
“Hear anything more of Mort and his crowd?” asked Tom of Andy.
“Not a thing.”
“I did,” spoke Chet. “They were nearly arrested for making a row in town after we got through with ’em.”
“Hum!” mused Andy. “I s’pose Mort will blame me for that, too. Well, no use worrying until I have to.”
At Churchtown, where the train stopped to give the boys at least a last remembrance of Kelly’s place, several passengers got on. Among them was a young man who seemed familiar to Andy and his chums. A second look confirmed it.
“Why, that’s the Bardon chap we took away from that farmer!” exclaimed Frank.
“That’s right!” cried Andy. “Hello, Link!” he called genially. “What you doing here?”
“Oh, how are you?” asked the farm lad. “Glad to see you all again,” and he nodded to each one in turn. He did not at all presume on his acquaintance with them, and was about to pass on, when Andy said:
“Sit down. How’s your arm?”