“See here,” said he. “You write out a statement of the whole matter and leave it on your dressing-table. Say how Bates got us into this mess, and where he is now. I’ll do the same. I’ll address it to old Moseley and ask him to send it on to my father. How will that do?”
“That will do. And then your father, and mine too, will know that we are all right, and that we haven’t run away without a pretty good reason.”
“How much money have you?” asked Percy, as we rose from our conference.
“There are four pounds in my savings-box,” I replied.
“Well, bring it all,” said he. “I have three pounds, besides twenty-five dollars my aunt gave me. Come and throw a stone at my window at eleven and I’ll be ready. We must wait till everybody is asleep.”
Percy then hurried off to the schoolhouse, and at five minutes past eleven that night, as I have already told, we were running down the white chalk road on our way to Southampton, twenty-five miles distant.
CHAPTER III
A FALSE START
THERE was a tinge of red in the eastern sky when two very weary and very hungry boys came tramping into Southampton and made their way down to the docks. Among the innumerable vessels lying side by side they presently came to one which presented an appearance of greater bustle than the others; the steam was roaring from the funnels, cases and boxes were being lowered into the hold amid much shouting and running up and down of sailors, and everything betokened a speedy departure.
Of a man standing on the wharf, his hands in his pockets and a pipe in the corner of his mouth, one of the boys inquired whither this vessel was bound.