Part 39 (1/2)
”Of course.”
”Whose name is Farwell Gibson.”
”I didn't say so,” declared Van evasively.
”But I know it, don't I? Have you any reason for concealing his ident.i.ty?”
”Yes, sir, I have,” declared Van flatly.
”Why?”
”I can't tell you that. See here, Fairbanks, you guess what you like, but until I have reported the result of my mission to--to him, I have no right to say another word.”
”All right,” a.s.sented Ralph. ”It will all come out clear in the end, only before we drop the subject I would like to make another guess.”
”What is it?” challenged Van.
”That man in the long linen duster in the one-horse gig was Farwell Gibson.”
CHAPTER XXIX--A RIVAL RAILROAD
There was some mystery about Farwell Gibson, Ralph decided, and the more he scanned what he knew of his past, his peculiar method of sending the letter to his father, and Van's guarded manner, the more he was satisfied that there was a puzzle of some kind to solve.
The sun was going down and night was coming on apace. Ralph propounded a pertinent query.
”What is your next move, Van?”
”I don't mind telling you--to get after that one-horse gig.”
”It's home by this time, probably.”
”I intend to follow it.”
”I think I had better go with you, Van,” suggested Ralph.
”Why not? You don't think I am anxious to shake the best friend I ever had, do you? There's just this, though: Mr. Gibson is a kind of a hermit.”
”And does not like strange society? I see. Well, I shall not intrude upon him until you have paved the way. Let me keep with you. When you get near his home go on ahead and report just how matters stand. If he cares to see me, I shall be glad. If he don't, there's an end to it.”
”That's satisfactory,” a.s.sented Van heartily. ”I guess he will be willing to see you.”
”I hope so, Van.”
”And if he does, I know you will be glad he did,” declared Van convincedly.
”Do you intend to start for his place to-night?” inquired Ralph.
”I think we might. I feel fresh as a lark, and it's a beautiful night.