lose that if you stand here talking much longer," declared
Tom peevishly. "Take up your bag and come along. There's only six or
seven minutes."

"Where is it? Haven't you got it?"

"Got what?"

"My bag," said Steve crossly.

"Isn't it staring you in the face?" asked Tom disgustedly, indicating
the suit-case against the seat. "Are you blind?"

"That? That isn't mine. Where----" Steve looked at the bag in Tom's hand
and then around the floor. "_Where's mine?_"

"What!" Tom was gazing in stupefied amazement at the bag between them.

On the end appeared the legend: "A. L. M., Orange, N. J."

CHAPTER IV

OUT FOR BRIMFIELD!

Just as the conductor, snapping his watch shut, waved his hand to the
engineer of the four-twelve two boys hurried down the platform and, with
the assistance of a negro porter, climbed to the last platform of the
moving train. From there, much out of breath, they entered the car,
pushed aside a curtain and sank on to the seats of the smoking
compartment. And as he did so each set a suit-case between his legs and
the front of the seat in a way that suggested that only over his dead
body could that bag be removed!

The first of the two, the one with his back to the engine, was a
nice-looking youth of fifteen--almost sixteen, to be quite
accurate--with a broad-shouldered, slim-hipped body that spoke of the
best of physical condition. He had a pair of light-brown eyes, a short
straight nose, a nice mouth and a rather sharp chin. His face was
tanned, and slightly freckled as well, and he was tall for his age. His
full name was Stephen Dana Edwards.

His companion was an inch shorter, a little heavier in build, although
quite as well-conditioned physically, and was lighter in colouring. His
hair was several shades less dark than his friend's, although it, too,
was brown, his eyes were grey and under the sunburn his skin was quite
fair. His full name was Thomas Perrin Hall.

Good, healthy, frank-looking youths both of them under normal
conditions, but at this present moment very far from appearing at their
best. Each face held an expression of gloom and resentment; on Mr.
Stephen Edwards' countenance sat what might well be termed a scowl. And,
after a minute, by which time the train had plunged into the tunnel and
the travellers had somewhat recovered their breaths, the latter young
gentleman gave voice to a remark which went well with his expression.

"I like the way you looked after