“We didn’t get as much as we wanted,” said Sam.  “We are still quite something out of pocket.”

“But not as much as the railroad company!” The lawyer gave a brief chuckle, which surprised the lads.  “Oh, it’s all right, so far as I am concerned,” he continued.  “Maybe you’d be interested to know that I no longer represent that road.”

“You don’t?” and now Dick was interested.

“No, I handed in my resignation three days ago,” answered Belright Fogg.  He did not add that he had been asked to resign by the head of the railroad company, because of irregularities in his accounts and because of several professional shortcomings.

“Going to give up law?” asked Tom, for the want of something better to say.

“Not at all, my boy.  I am going down to the city to practice my profession.  There is a much larger field for my abilities down there than up here,” Belright Fogg answered, loftily.

“Yes, New York is pretty large,” responded Tom, dryly.

“I expect to open my offices in a few days,” went on the lawyer.  “If you ever have any business down there, come in and see me.  I will mail you one of my cards,” and with another bland smile, and a bow, he passed out of the dining car.

“Oh, my, but we are some pumpkins!” murmured Tom.  “First thing you know he’ll be putting all the other lawyers in New York out of business.”

“I shouldn’t want him for a lawyer,” remarked Sam.  “He doesn’t impress me very favorably.”

“Handed in his resignation, eh?” mused Dick.  “More than likely he had to do it.  No, I shouldn’t want anything to do with him.”

The boys finished their meal, and after paying the bill, returned to their former seats.  They looked around for Belright Fogg, but he was evidently in some other car of the train.

It was dark, so they could see little of the country through which they were passing.  At one station at which they stopped, a newsboy came through the train, crying his wares, and Dick purchased several metropolitan evening papers and handed them around.

“Nothing but politics, a murder, a big auto race, and a new war in Central America,” remarked Tom, thumbing over his paper.  “How tired the reporters must get of writing about the same kind of things every day.”

“They must have exciting times getting the news, sometimes,” returned Sam.

“Here’s an advertisement that will interest you,” remarked Dick, and he pointed to the bottom of a page.  “Pelter, Japson & Company advertise themselves as brokers and dealers in high-class Western securities, and they offer stock in that Sunset Irrigation Company.  That’s the company dad was interested in.”

All of the boys read the advertisement carefully, but it added nothing to their stock of knowledge.  Then they looked the newspapers over some more, and finally threw them away.

“Wish we were in New York,” sighed Sam.  He was growing tired, having been on the go since early morning.