Part 20 (1/2)

”Not a word, Jessie.”

”You are sure it was he who was behind the summer-house that day?”

”Fairly sure. Of course, we might have been mistaken. But we know he was in Crumville--Laura was sure of that--and it would be just like him to sneak up to our place to see what he could do to annoy or injure us.”

”Oh, if only they would leave you alone, Dave!” and the girl sighed deeply.

”Don't you worry, Jessie; I can take care of myself.”

The lunch was a delightful one, and with so little to do, the young folks took their time over the repast. Then they drifted back to the observation car, and the boys saw to it that the girls and the ladies got good seats, where they might see all that they pa.s.sed.

The afternoon found them rolling in the direction of Buffalo, which they were to reach before it was time to retire for the night. Then the train would pa.s.s through Cleveland while they slept, on its way to Chicago.

”I'll be glad to get a look at Chicago,” said Ben Ba.s.swood, who had not done much traveling.

”We are to take a tour in a rubber-neck wagon,” he added.

”A rubber-neck wagon!” cried his mother. ”Benjamin, what language!”

”Well, that is what they usually call the touring automobiles,” he answered, with a grin.

To some of the folks on the trip, going to bed on a train was much of a novelty, and they watched with interest while the porters made up the berths.

”Do you remember the time we had Billy Dill along, and what he thought of sleeping on a train?” remarked Dave, to Phil and Roger.

”I sure do,” answered the s.h.i.+powner's son, with a chuckle. ”When he saw the seats converted into beds he wanted to know if they didn't have a ballroom aboard, or a church, or a farm,” and at the recollection of the old tar's questions all in the party had to laugh.

”Where is this Billy Dill now?” asked Shadow.

”Safe in an old sailors' home,” answered Dave. ”He took a trip or two to sea, but he couldn't stand it, so we had him put in the home.”

”You've got him to thank for a good deal, Dave,” remarked the senator's son, in low tones.

”Yes, and I'll never forget Billy Dill,” answered our hero, as he remembered how the old tar had helped him to find his Uncle Dunston, as related in detail in ”Dave Porter in the South Seas.”

Mr. Dunston Porter had found some congenial spirits in the smoking-compartment of the car and spent a good deal of his time there.

He met a man who had done considerable hunting in the West, and the two ”swapped yarns,” as Mr. Porter said afterwards.

Only a short stop was made at Buffalo, just long enough to allow the boys and some of the men to stretch their legs on the depot platform, and then the excursion train started on its trip along the sh.o.r.e of Lake Erie towards the great Windy City, as Chicago is sometimes called.

Morning found the party well on the way to Chicago, and that metropolis of the Great Lakes was reached about noon. Lunch had already been served, and at the depot all hands found a string of touring automobiles awaiting them, to take them around to various points of interest, including the business section, the finer residential district, and Lincoln Park, with its Zoological Garden. Some of the party went in a different direction, to visit the Stock Yards, that great place where hundreds of cattle are slaughtered daily.

”By the great tin dipper!” cried Phil, suddenly, when waiting for the automobile in which he and some others sat to start off. ”Look who's here!”

”Jim Murphy!” cried Dave and Roger, in a breath.

”So it is!” came from Shadow. ”Hi, Jim!” he called out. ”Don't you know us any more?”

The young man they addressed, a tall fellow of Irish parentage, who stood on the sidewalk, turned swiftly. Then his face broke into a grin, and he rushed forward.