That same afternoon Dick sold the team for nearly $400.
“I think we can afford to take the train for New York,” he said after figuring up his cash capital, which he found amounted to $850.
And Joe readily agreed with him, for he had $155 tucked snugly away in an inside pocket.
CHAPTER XIII.
WRECK AND RESCUE.
“Gee! She’s a beaut, isn’t she, Dick?”
The Buffalo Express, on board of which Dick Armstrong and his friend, Joe Fletcher, were traveling to New York, had just stopped at Poughkeepsie, and the exclamation was drawn from Joe by the appearance in the car of a lovely young girl of apparently fifteen years of age, accompanied by a fine-looking gentleman of perhaps forty, who seemed to be her father.
“She is pretty, for a fact,” admitted Dick, casting a look of admiration at the young lady.
She had light hair, blue eyes, and dimpled cheeks, and her smile was an entrancing one as she turned to say something to the gentleman when he seated himself by her side.
The train soon started on again and was presently speeding down the bank of the Hudson River at a fifty-mile clip.