the hermit, and every day's delay was so
much additional expense to his employer. True, Gilbert Huet was a rich
man, as he had himself acknowledged, but Robert was conscientious, and
felt that this would not justify him in gratifying himself at the
expense of the man who had so trusted him.

Robert felt proud of this trust--this very unusual proof of confidence
in a boy so young and inexperienced as he was--and he was ambitious to
justify it. I am sure, therefore, that he would have had little
satisfaction in postponing it out of regard to his own pleasure.

There were two ways of going to the West, which, it will be remembered,
was his destination--by the way of Albany or New York City.

Finding that it would not matter much how he went, Robert decided upon
the latter. It would enable him to see the great city of which he had
heard so much, and who knows but, in this great metropolis, which
swallows up so many, he might hear something of the lost boy?

He decided, therefore, to go at once to New York, and, after some
inquiry, he fixed upon the Fall River route.

This includes railroad travel to Fall River, a distance of about fifty
miles, where the traveler embarks on a great steamer and arrives in New
York after a night on Long Island Sound.

Guided by an advertisement in the daily papers, Robert made his way to
the Old State House, at the head of State Street, and, entering the
office of the steamboat line, asked for a ticket.

"Will you take a stateroom also?" asked the clerk.

"Is that necessary?" asked Robert, who was unused to traveling.

"No, it's not necessary. Your ticket will entitle you to a comfortable
berth, but in a stateroom you have greater privacy."

"What is a stateroom?" asked our hero.

The clerk was rather surprised by this question, but decided that Robert
was not accustomed to traveling and answered politely enough:

"It is very much like a room in a hotel, only much smaller. There is a
berth and a washstand, and you can lock yourself in. There is greater
security against robbery, for you hold the key and no one can enter it
without your knowledge."

As Robert carried considerable money belonging to Mr. Huet, he felt that
he ought to take this precaution, if it were not too expensive.

"How much must I pay for a stateroom?" he asked.

"You can get a good one for a dollar."

"Then I will take one."

"Number fifty-six," said the clerk, handing him a card with the number
pencile