Part 34 (1/2)

said she, somewhat timidly, when he had finished her father's letters.

”Yes, I will do so with pleasure,” he answered.

”I shall be proud of such pretty writing,” returned Ray, handing him the book.

”You embarra.s.s me,” said he, blus.h.i.+ng.

”I don't see why,” laughed Ray, enjoying young Randolph's modesty.

”Well, I am not accustomed to compliments, especially from--er----”

”From young girls,” suggested Mrs. Goldwin, smiling.

”Thank you,” returned Herbert; ”I was hesitating whether to say 'girls'

or 'young ladies.'”

”Oh, say girls, by all means,” replied Mrs. Goldwin. ”We don't want Ray to become a young lady too soon.”

”I don't blame you,” responded our hero, half seriously.

”Why, Mr. Randolph,” said Ray, shaking her dainty finger at him, ”I believe I would not have asked you to write in my alb.u.m if I had supposed you would say that.”

”Well, it is not too late yet, for you see I have not touched the book with the pen,” laughed Herbert.

”Oh, but I would not want to disappoint you. You know you said it would give you pleasure to do so.”

”So it would, but I would rather sacrifice this pleasure than feel that you would be sorry you had given me the invitation.”

Without further parley Herbert wrote in the alb.u.m--wrote so prettily that he was roundly complimented by all.

Mrs. Goldwin and Ray were now summoned into the drawing room to receive a caller, and presently young Randolph took his leave, and started for his room with a very light and happy heart.

CHAPTER XXV.

TOM FLANNERY'S SICKNESS.

Bob Hunter was too much surprised by the fact that Herbert was going to Mr. Goldwin's house to tell him of his own anxiety about Tom Flannery.

The latter had not, as Bob learned, been seen for two days at his accustomed place. That he should be away one day was not particularly strange, for he not infrequently got odd jobs to do that took him to another part of the city, or possibly to some of the near by suburbs.

Two days' absence, however, was so unusual for him that Bob Hunter became anxious, fearing that possibly the vengeance of old Gunwagner and his companion in crime had fallen upon poor, unsuspecting Tom. This thought having suggested itself to him, his previous anxiety speedily turned to a feeling of alarm.

He therefore left his place of business as early as possible, and after a hurried supper went quickly to Tom Flannery's home, which was in a large office building on Broadway, very near Bowling Green. The latter's mother was janitress of the building. Her duties were to keep it clean, and to look after the interests of the owner. For these services she received a trifling money reward, and was allowed to occupy two small rooms at the top of the building. Here Mrs. Flannery and Tom made their home, which, though humble, was very neat.

Bob knocked softly at the door, out of breath from climbing so many flights of stairs, and with sore misgivings for the safety of his young companion. The door was opened presently by a woman of middle age, who, as Bob saw at a glance from her extraordinary resemblance to Tom, was the newsboy's mother. He had never seen her before, but the honest, trustful look so characteristic of his young friend shone prominently in Mrs. Flannery's face.

”They have got him, poor Tom,” said Bob to himself with beating heart, as he saw Mrs. Flannery's grief.

”Are you not Master Bob Hunter?” said the woman, speaking first--after an awkward pause; for the visitor, who had been so bold a detective, was now so distressed that he knew not what to say.