n, my dear madam,
"Your obedient servant,
"Richard Butler."

January 12th.

Colonel Butler read the letter over slowly aloud, folded the
subscription paper on which it had been written, and handed it to
Aleck.

"There, young man," he said, "are your credentials, and my offer."

The shrieking whistle had already announced the approach of the train,
and the easy puffing of the locomotive indicated that it was now
standing at the station. The colonel rose from his chair and started
across the room, followed by Aleck.

"You're very kind to do that," said the boy. And he added: "Have you a
grip that I can carry to the train for you?"

"No, thank you! A certain act--rash perhaps, but justifiable,--in the
civil war, cost me an arm. Since then, when traveling, I have found it
convenient to check my baggage."

He pushed his way through the crowd on the platform, still followed by
Aleck, and mounted the rear steps of the last coach on the train. The
engine bell was ringing. The conductor cried, "All aboard!" and
signalled to the engineer, and the train moved slowly out.

On the rear platform, scanning the crowd at the station, stood Colonel
Butler, tall, soldierly, impressive. He saw Aleck and waved his hand
to him. And at that moment, capless, breathless, hopeless, around the
corner of the station into sight, dashed Pen Butler.

CHAPTER II

Pen was not only exhausted by his race, he was disappointed and
distressed as well.

Whether or not his grandfather had seen him as the train moved out he
did not know. He simply knew that for him not to have been there on
time was little less than tragical. He dropped down limply on a
convenient trunk to regain his breath.

After a minute he was aware that some one was standing near by,
looking at him. He glanced up and saw that it was Aleck Sands. He was
nettled. He knew of no reason why Aleck should stand there staring at
him.

"Well," he asked impatiently, "is there anything about me that's
particularly astonishing?"

"Not particularly," replied Aleck. "You seem to be winded, that's
all."

"You'd be winded too, if you'd run all the way from Drake's Hill."

"Too bad you missed your grandfather. He was looking for you."

"How do you know?"

"He told me so. He wanted to know if I'd seen you."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him you'd gone to Drake's Hill, coasting."

Pen rose slowly to his feet. What right, he asked himself, ha