ou to
investigate quietly without arousing suspicion.

"This will be our secret, Bob. You must not tell a soul, not even Mr.
Perkins."

"I won't, sir."

Realizing from Bob's expression that he had aroused sad thoughts and
memories, the vice-president stood up and said:

"Now that we have made this agreement, we will dismiss it from our minds
for the present. I want you to come to dinner and the theatre with me."

"But my pass and the train?" exclaimed Bob.

"Your train, or rather the limited, on which I shall send you, does not
leave until eleven. I'll send for your pass now." And, pressing a
button, he ordered the clerk who responded to fetch Bob's pass.

This done, Mr. Nichols was signing some papers when word was brought
that the chief of detectives wished to take Bob's deposition.

"Have them come in here," replied the official, and in due course the
lawyer, notary and detective arrived.

Briefly Bob told his story, signed it, and solemnly swore to its truth.

"And now we'll forget all trouble and have a good time," announced Mr.
Nichols. "Give this note to the cashier, chief. Take Bob's pass from the
messenger and meet us at the limited at eleven. Bob and I are going to
the theatre."

To the boy, it seemed as though he were in fairy-land. First Mr. Nichols
took him to a store, bought him a new suit and a complete outfit of
shirts and clothes, had Bob don some of them, then purchased a trunk,
ordered the things packed in it and sent to the station, finally taking
Bob for a drive about the city.

At first Bob had protested, but the vice-president silenced him by
saying that the service he had rendered the railroad was worth much more
than the clothes.

Dinner and theatre were one whirl of pleasure to the boy. And after he
had been put in care of the conductor of the limited, had bidden
good-bye to Mr. Nichols and the detectives, who all gathered to see him
off, bringing various little presents, and the train was in motion, he
sat and pondered over the series of events.

But his surprises were not ended, for when he opened the envelope
containing his pass, he found two crisp fifty-dollar bills pinned to a
card, which said:

"For Bob Chester, with the compliments of the Great Western Railroad."

Nature, however, asserted herself at last, and Bob went to sleep.

Interesting because of its novelty, the journey proceeded without
further incidents, and in due course Bob reached Fairfax.

CHAPTE