"Something mysterious, eh?" he said.
"Not at all, but you must excuse me."
It seemed peculiar to Robert, who had seen considerable of the world, that a reputable business man should be addressed in the terms employed by Brandon, and he looked his surprise.
"That man is an acquaintance I stumbled across in one of my business journeys," explained Fitzgerald when they passed on, "and he assumed undue familiarity. A man stumbles across some strange acquaintances; I prefer to steer clear of such parties, but it is sometimes hard to shake them off."
"He seemed very well acquainted," thought Robert, but he said nothing. In fact he was considerably at a loss what to think of his employer, who chose to say very little of his past history. He felt that he should not care to remain long with him, but for the present there seemed no objection to fill up the remainder of the season in his employ.
From Chicago Robert and his employer travelled northwest, till they entered the State of Minnesota. Here, somewhat to Robert's surprise, they left the cars at a small town, which I will call Florence, and registered at a small hotel, which I will call the Dearborn House. Probably our hero looked surprised, and Fitzgerald volunteered an explanation.
"It is here where Mr. Robertson's land is located," he said.
"I thought it was Mr. Robinson—Ashley Robinson," said Robert.
"To be sure," returned Fitzgerald, rather disconcerted, for he had forgotten the name he had extemporized in Chicago; "I am always making mistakes about names. I have to enter everything in my diary."
The morning after, Robert chanced to pick up a piece of paper just outside his employer's door. As there seemed to be writing upon it he picked it up, thinking that it might be of some importance.