“Do you know all, Roy; the very worst?” Rex then whispered.

“Don’t think of that now, Reggie.  It is all right.  I want to talk about yourself—­ your sickness.”

“But I must think of it.  I have been thinking of it ever since I came to my senses yesterday.  Did you know that I told you lies, that I acted them, that I took the money I had been saving up for mother’s present to pay the expenses of this wretched trip?”

“But you didn’t go all the way, Reggie.  I found that out.  You turned back.  What happened to you then?”

Rex told the terrible tale of the robbery, of the awful night he had passed riding back and forth across the river, and had got as far as his falling asleep on the train when Mrs. Raynor appeared and smilingly announced that time was up.

“Miles will tell you the rest, Roy,” said Rex.  “He’s the best fellow.  I don’t know what would have become of me if it hadn’t been for him.  And Mrs. Raynor, too.  When I get well they must all come to Philadelphia and we’ll give them the very best time.”

There was a touch of his old self in the heartiness with which he uttered these words.  Roy’s coming and comforting words had lifted a heavy burden from his heart.

They left him to try to get to sleep again.  Roy went down stairs with Mrs. Raynor.

“I ought to go home at once and tell my mother about Rex,” he said.

“Why not send a message and stay with him?” suggested the other.  “We should be very glad to have you.  There is plenty of room in the house.  Or send word for your mother to come on.  I know she must be anxious to see her son.”

Roy hesitated.  He scarcely knew what to do.  Then he remembered Sydney’s absence and reflected that the girls could not very well be left alone.  He decided to stay himself till Monday, and to send word that Rex was all right now.

He hurried off to the station to write his dispatch and came back as quickly to the Raynors’.  He recollected that he had not yet seen the Miles of whom Rex spoke, the fellow who could tell him the continuation of his brother’s adventures.

He asked Florence, whom he found on the lawn, where he could find Miles.

“He’s out in the field now,” she replied, “digging potatoes.  But it’s almost twelve.  He’ll be in then for his dinner.  He just adores that brother of yours.”

“But who is he?” Roy persisted.

“Well, he hasn’t told us his story yet.  We took him on trust, and he’s turned out all right so far.  But there he comes now.”

“Excuse me,” said Roy.  “I’ll go and see him.”  And he hurried off around the corner of the house.

The next minute he stood face to face with the youth who is destined to play a highly important part in the remainder of this tale.

CHAPTER XXV

 Miles Harding’s story