“Let us get to Baltimore, anyway,” suggested the clown.  “It’s nearer home—­and my wife.”

Andy paid their fares.  Miss Starr briefly told the conductor of their mishaps at Lacon.  Her eloquent, sympathetic eyes won Midget a free ride.

Andy got pillows for his three friends, and some coffee and pie from the adjoining buffet car.

He saw them comfortably disposed of for the night; and then went back to Luke.

They sat down close together, two pleased, jolly friends.  Andy interested Luke immensely by reciting his vivid experiences since they had parted.

“By the way, Luke,” he observed at last, “there’s something I missed hearing from you at Tipton.  Remember?”

“Let’s see,” said Luke musingly.  “Oh, yes—­you mean about your being an heir?”

“That’s it.”

Luke became animated at once.

“I’ve often thought about that,” he said.  “You know I was all struck of a heap when you first told me your name!”

“Yes.”

“And asked if you was Andy Wildwood, the heir?  Do you remember?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, it was funny, but early on the day I came to the circus I was tramping it along a creek.  About three miles out of town I should think, I lay down to rest among some bushes.  Ten minutes after I’d got there a boat rowed by some persons came along.  They beached it right alongside the brush.  Then one of them, a boy, lifted a mail bag from the bottom of the skiff.”

“A mail bag—–­ a boy?” repeated Andy, with a start of intelligence.  “Did you hear his name?”

“Yes, in a talk that followed.  The man with him called him Jim.”

“Jim Tapp,” murmured Andy.

“He called the man Murdock.”

“I thought so,” Andy said to himself.  “They put up that mail robbery.”

“They cut open the bag and took out a lot of letters,” continued Luke.  “A few of them had money in them.  This they pocketed, tearing up the letters and throwing them into the creek.  There was one letter the boy kept.  He read it over and over.  When they had got through with the letters, he said to the man that it was funny.”

“What was funny?” asked Andy.

“Why, he said there was a letter putting him on to ‘a big spec.,’ as he called it.  He said the letter told about a secret, about a fortune the writer had discovered.  He said the letter was to a boy who would never know his good luck if they didn’t tell him.  He said to the man there was something to think over.  He chuckled as he bragged how they would make a big stake juggling the fortune of the heir, Andy Wildwood.”

“I don’t understand it at all,” said Andy, “but it is a singular story, for a fact.”

“Well, that’s all I know about it.  The minute I heard your name, of course I recalled where I had heard it before.”

“Of course,” nodded Andy thoughtfully.

After that the conversation lagged.  Luke soon fell asleep.  For over two hours, however, Andy kept trying to figure out how he could possibly be an heir, who had written the letter, and to whom it had been addressed.