"I feel sure of it. You have travelled considerably, I presume?"
"Yes, with the circus."
"Precisely. Then you know something about hotels, trains, etc. A boy who had always lived at home would not suit me so well. Where is your luggage?"
"I have only a gripsack—I mean valise—with me."
"That is better. Travellers should not be encumbered with too much baggage. It is a great nuisance. Where is it?"
"I left it below."
"You can bring it up to my room. I won't hire a room for you, for I intend to start this very night for the West by a night train from the Grand Central depot. That won't be too sudden for you, will it?"
"O no, sir; I am entirely at your service. I have nothing to detain me in New York."
"Go down and get your valise and bring it up here, and I will give you my instructions."
"The boy has walked into the trap," said Fitzgerald, thoughtfully, when Robert left him. "He is a fine boy, and seems a thorough little gentleman in spite of the way in which he has been brought up. It is a pity to harm him, but my interests and that scoundrel Hugo's require it."