“March on! in legions death and sin
    Impatient wait thy conquering hand;
  The foe without, the foe within—­
    Thy youthful arm must both withstand.”

Bobby had great hopes of him.  He felt that he could not well get rid of him, and he saw that it was policy for him to make the best of it.

“Well, Tom, where are you going?” asked Bobby, after he had made up his mind not to object to the companionship of the other.

“I don’t know.  You have been a good friend to me lately, and I had an idea that you would give me a lift in this business.”

“I should be very willing to do so:  but what can I do for you?”

“Just show me how the business is done; that’s all I want.”

“Your father and mother were willing you should come—­were they not?”

Bobby had some doubts about this point, and with good reason too.  He had called at Tom’s house, the day before, and they had gone to church together; but neither he nor his parents had said a word about his going to Boston.

“When did they agree to it?”

“Last night,” replied Tom, after a moment’s hesitation.

“All right then; but I cannot promise you that Mr. Bayard will let you have the books.”

“I can fix that, I reckon,” replied Tom, confidently.

“I will speak a good word for you, at any rate.”

“That’s right, Bob.”

“I am going down into the State of Maine this time, and shall be gone three or four weeks.”

“So much the better; I always wanted to go down that way.”

Tom asked a great many questions about the business and the method of travelling, which Bobby’s superior intelligence and more extensive experience enabled him to answer to the entire satisfaction of the other.

When they were within half a mile of the railroad station, they heard a carriage driven at a rapid rate approaching them from the direction of Riverdale.

Tom seemed to be uneasy, and cast frequent glances behind him.  In a moment the vehicle was within a short distance of them, and he stopped short in the road to scrutinize the persons in it.

“By jolly!” exclaimed Tom; “my father!”

“What of it?” asked Bobby, surprised by the strange behavior of his companion.

Tom did not wait to reply, but springing over the fence, fled like a deer towards some woods a short distance from the road.

Was it possible?  Tom had run away from home.  His father had not consented to his going to Boston, and Bobby was mortified to find that his hopeful disciple had been lying to him ever since they left Riverdale.  But he was glad the cheat had been exposed.

“That was Tom with you—­wasn’t it?” asked Mr. Spicer, as he stopped the foaming horse.

“Yes, sir; but he told me you had consented that he should go with me,” replied Bobby, a little disturbed by the angry glance of Mr. Spicer’s fiery eyes.