Just as the train was about to start Darrell saw the man whose peculiar
actions he had noticed earlier, leave the telegraph office and jump
hastily aboard. Calling Whitcomb's attention as he passed them, he
related his observations of the afternoon and cautioned him against the
man. For an instant Whitcomb looked serious.
"I suppose it was rather indiscreet in me to talk as I did," he said,
"but it can't be helped now. However, I guess it's all right, but I'm
obliged to you all the same."
They passed into the smoker, where Darrell was introduced to Hunter and
Parkinson. In a short time, however, he found himself suffering from
nausea and growing faint and dizzy.
"Gentlemen," he said, "you will have to excuse me. I'm rather off my
base this evening, and I find that smoking isn't doing me any good."
As he rose young Whitcomb sprang instantly to his feet; throwing away
his cigar and linking his arm within Darrell's, he insisted upon
accompanying him to the sleeper, notwithstanding his protests.
"Good-night, Parkinson," he called, cheerily; "see you in the morning!"
He accompanied Darrell to his section; then dropped familiarly into the
seat beside him, throwing one arm affectionately over Darrell's
shoulder, and during the next hour, while the sunset glow faded and the
evening shadows deepened, he confided to this acquaintance of only a few
hours the outlines of his past life and much regarding his hopes and
plans for the future. He spoke of his orphaned boyhood; of the uncle who
had given him a home in his family and initiated him into his own
business methods; of his hope of being admitted at no distant day into
partnership with his uncle and becoming a shareholder in the wonderful
Bird Mine.
"But that isn't all I am looking forward to," he said, in conclusion,
his boyish tones growing strangely deep and tender. "My fondest hope of
all I hardly dare admit even to myself, and I don't know why I am
speaking of it to you, except that I already like you and trust you as I
never did any other man; but you will understand what I mean when you
see my cousin, Kate Underwood."
He paused, but his silence was more eloquent to Darrell than words; the
latter grasped his hand warmly in token that he understood.
"I wish you all that you hope for," he said.
A few moments later Whitcomb spoke with his usual impetuosity. "What am
I thinking of, keeping you up in this way when you are sick and dead
tired! You had better turn in and get all the rest you can, and when we
reach Ophir to-morrow, just remember, my dear fellow, that no hotels
'go.' You'll go directly home with me, where you'll find yourself in
such good hands you'll think sure you're in your own home, and we'll
soon have you all right."