"Go to New York with him, and keep him there if possible," said Mr. Ranson. "Mr. Henshaw or his agent will be down soon and arrest him. I will fix matters with the judge."
"Shall I say anything to him?"
"No, let Mr. Mason do it for you."
A little more conversation passed between us, and then I announced my readiness to start.
"And good luck go with you," said Mr. Ranson in a voice loud enough for Mr. Stillwell to hear, and it made his nose go up in anger.
"Hope you're done," he snarled.
"Yes, sir, quite finished."
"Then come along."
Mr. Stillwell marched me out of the hotel and down the street without further words.
"Going right to New York?"
"None of your business."
"But it is my business," and I stood still.
"Can't you see we are?" he retorted.
After this hardly a word passed between us. When he arrived at the depot he said sourly:
"I suppose you haven't any ticket?"
"I haven't."
"Have you any money to buy it with?"
"If you want me to go to New York you will have to buy me a ticket," was my reply.
