“I’ll keep my eyes open,” I replied.

The remainder of the day was spent in active work around the widow’s place.  Not only did I labor all the afternoon, but far into the evening as well, to show that I did not intend to shirk my duty even though I was going away.  Besides, Mrs. Canby had treated me so well that I was almost willing to work my fingers to the bone to serve her.

The following day was Sunday.  Kate and I were in the habit of attending church and Sunday-school over in Darbyville, but we shrank from doing so now.  But Uncle Enos and I went to church, and despite the many curious eyes levelled at me, I managed to give attention to an excellent sermon.  I noticed that the Woodward pew was empty, but then this was of common occurrence and excited no comment.

On Sunday evening my handbag stood in my room packed, ready for my departure.  Dick Blair came over to see me and brought strange and sad news.

Duncan Woodward and Pultzer, his intimate crony, had gotten into a row in a pool room down in Newville and were both under arrest.  Mr. Woodward and Mr. Pultzer had gone off to get their sons out of jail.  Dick did not know how the row had started, but had heard that the young men had been drinking heavily.

I was much shocked at the news, and so were the others.  If affairs kept on like this, Mr. Aaron Woodward would certainly have his hands full.

I retired early so as to be on hand the next day.  Sleep was out of the question.  I had never been a hundred miles away from Darbyville, and the prospect of leaving filled me with excitement.

I was up long before it was necessary, but found Kate ahead of me.

“You’re going to have a good, hot breakfast before you go,” she said.  “Sit right down.  It’s all ready.”

Presently, as I was eating, my uncle and Mrs. Canby joined me.  They were full of advice as to what to do and what to avoid, and I listened to all they had to say attentively.

But all things must come to an end, and at length breakfast was over.  My Uncle Enos and Kate drove me to Newville, and waited till the train rolled in.

“Good-by, Roger,” said Kate.  “Please, please, now do keep out of trouble.”

“I will, Kate,” I returned, and kissed her.  Then I shook hands with my uncle.

“Keep a clear weather eye and a strong hand at the wheel, Roger, my boy,” he said, “and you’ll make port all safe.”

“I’ll try, Uncle Enos.”

A moment more and I was on the cars.  Then with an “All aboard” the conductor gave the signal, and the train moved off.

I passed into the car and took a vacant seat near the centre.  I had hardly sat down before a well-dressed stranger took the seat beside me.

“Hot day,” said he, after he had arranged his bag on the floor beside my own.

“Yes, it is,” I replied, “and dry, too.”

“Meanest part of the country I’ve struck yet,” he went on.  “Don’t have any such climate as this out West.”