CHAPTER XXXIII
CONCLUSION
Jim McGovern now gave the particulars of his own escape through thehelp of Dick Halliard, and of their memorable interview on the borderof the rushing flood, with the body of Tom Wagstaff lying at theirfeet. Bob listened with deep interest until he had finished, and thenshook his head.
"It beats anything I ever knew or heard tell of; but I don't feel safenow that Halliard has the grip on me."
"Of course, he told me nothing about that affair; but, since he got somuch the best of it, I'm sure he will be satisfied to let it go nofurther. I'll guarantee it," added McGovern, with a glowing face.
"I don't see how you can do that; but I'm inclined to believe you canmake it right with Dick."
"Of course I can; such a fellow as he is will do anything in the worldfor you."
But Bob was not free from misgiving. He had dwelt upon the troublesomematter until he had grown morbid. It assumed a magnitude in his mindbeyond the truth.
"What are you going to do, Jim?"
"If I live I shall enter Yale College at the next term, and try to besomething that my folks won't be ashamed of."
"Whew! but that's a big flop for you, and you will lose a mighty dealof fun by trying to be good."
"You can have tenfold more than by the other way; I haven't tried itlong, it is true, but I have felt more genuine pleasure during thesefew days than I ever knew in all my life; it will be the same withyou."
Bob Budd sat silent a moment, looking out of the window. He had giventhe same important subject a great deal of thought during the few daysthat he imagined so many of those whom he met were hunting for him,but the restraining power in his case was that he saw no safe way bywhich to turn the sharp corner. So long as he was in danger of beingarrested so long he must remain a fugitive.
Now the whole case was changed. He knew, despite the doubts he hadexpressed, that Dick Halliard could be relied upon, and that not theslightest risk was run in trusting to his honor.
"Well, Jim," he said, after his brief silence, "_I'll try it_."
The other extended his hand, and they shook cordially.
"That's settled!" said McGovern, with much emphasis. He was wiseenough to refrain from any sermon, or disquisition upon the rewardsthat were sure to accompany such a step. Bob understood the matter aswell as he did, and therefore needed no enlightenment. His friendnever displayed more admirable tact than he did by treating the mentaldebate of the other as ended beyond all possibility of reopening. Heshowed no doubt in his own mind, though, truth to tell, he was notwholly free from misgiving.
"Now," added Bob, with a laugh, "I suppose your next order will be forme to go back to Piketon."
"I don't know that there is anything better for you to do; but I havebeen thinking that it might be better to bring Dick Halliard to NewYork, that we can talk the whole thing over and reach a fullunderstanding before you return."
"That suits me better."
"Our folks are anxious to meet him, for I have told them so manythings about him that he has become quite a hero in their eyes. Andthen there's another matter that I want to speak to you about," addedJim, rising from his chair, opening the door and peering into thehall, as if he feared that some one might overhear his words.
"There's no danger of anything like that," said Bob, with a laugh; "weare not of enough importance to have any one listening at the keyholeto catch our words."
"I don't know about that," replied Jim, with an air so mysterious thatthe curiosity of his friend was aroused. "I guess I'll risk it; but noone knows of it beside father and mother."
And then Jim, in a guarded undertone, made known another momentoussecret, while his companion sat with open mouth and staring eyeslistening to his words. He did not speak until he had finished andturned upon him with the question:
"What do you think of _that_, Bob?"
"I agree with you; I'll stand by you to the end; but what about Dick'svisit to New York?"
"I'll write to him now and mail both letters as I go out."
"Don't give him a hint about _me_," cautioned Bob, as the otherplaced himself at the table.
The letter, whose contents have already been known to the reader, waswritten in the room of the Astor House where the other to Captain Buddwas formulated. Then Jim placed the two in his pocket and rose to go.
"Won't you come and stay at our house?" he asked of Bob.
"Thanks, no; I'll remain here; you can understand that it would be alittle embarrassing to meet your folks just now. When matters arestraightened out I will give you a call, and you will come down andspend a week or two at Piketon."
"That's a bargain, provided it is not in the character of a PiketonRanger," replied Jim, with a laugh.
Shaking the hand of his friend he took his departure.
That afternoon when Bob strolled up Broadway, he reflected that it wasthe most enjoyable hour he had spent since his visit to themetropolis. He feared no one now, and his future was brighter than heever dreamed it could be.
When the telegram from Dick Halliard reached Jim McGovern, makingknown on what train he would reach New York, he drove down to theAstor House and took Bob to his own home, where he left him in thelibrary while he hastened to the station for Dick.
We have already given a hint about their meeting, when Dick receivedthe greatest shock in all his life. For a few minutes he doubted hisown senses, but that it was the real Bob Budd before him he wascompelled to admit, after shaking his hand, looking in his laughingface, and hearing his voice.
The three sat for a couple of hours discussing the subject which wasnearest to each one's heart. Then Jim took his two friends out ridingin the Park, for it happened to be one of the most delightful ofautumn days. In the evening the family of Mr. McGovern made theacquaintance of Dick and Bob, and the three visited a place ofentertainment.
The McGoverns insisted on Dick spending a week with them, but, thoughit would have given him rare pleasure to do so, he felt that he oughtto return at the end of the time he had named to Mr. Hunter. Hisfriends finally compromised by allowing him to go, with theunderstanding that he was to pay the visit during the holidays. Dickpromised that if it lay in his power he would do so.
The visit was made as per programme.
Bob decided to stay in New York for several days, until the excitementof his disappearance had time to subside. It was agreed that Dick onhis return should make known the astonishing news to the people inPiketon, that they might not be frightened out of their wits when theyencountered him on the street.
"I don't know how to fix it with them," said Bob, "and I will leave itwith you, Dick; your head is plumb, and you may be able to get up somestory which, while true, don't give me away too bad."
"I'll do my best," said Dick, as he bade his friends good-bye for abrief while.
Upon reaching Piketon, Dick, after reporting at home, called onCaptain Jim and Aunt Ruth, whom he told of his meeting with theirnephew in New York. He brought a message to the effect that he wouldsoon be with them, and they were at liberty to make known all he hadtold them, adding, by way of explanation, that he left for New York onthe evening of the flood on important business, which would soon befinished, when he would be among them again. He had read in the papersan account of the disaster, and was extremely sorry to learn of poorWagstaff's death. He hoped all his friends would overlook his failureto notify them more promptly that he was alive and well.
This was the story told by the captain and by Dick Halliard, andthough it was far from revealing everything, it cannot be said that itpartook of the nature of a falsehood.
On the second day after Dick's return, a small box arrived by expressfor Dick Halliard. When the wondering lad opened it he found within amagnificent gold watch and chain. On the former was engraved thefollowing inscription:
"From Bob and Jim,
TO THEIR BEST FRIEND Dick Halliard.
WE ARE ALL NOW FELLOW-TRAVELERS ALONG THE RIGHT PATH."
And that was the secret of the mysterious communication of JimMcGovern to Bob Budd in the room of the latter at the Astor House.
The Campers Out; Or, The Right Path and the Wrong Page 33