"We'll go out together to-morrow. My name's Bowman."

Fred heard the name with a thrill of excitement. Why, this must be the
man referred to in Sinclair's letter as having instigated him to the
crime. He surveyed Bowman with attention, taking stock of him, so to
speak. He found him to be a man of middle height, rather spare than
stout, with dark, shifty eyes and a sallow complexion. He wore a
mustache, but no whiskers.

"I may find it worth while to get well acquainted with him," thought
Fred. "I shall be glad to go out with you," he said aloud.

"That's all right! But how does a boy like you happen to be traveling
so far from home?"

"I have a vacation," said Fred. "I have never been in Canada, and
thought it would be something new to come here."

"I'm pretty tired of it, I can tell you."

"Then why do you stay?" asked Fred innocently.

"My partner's taken down with rheumatism, and I can't leave him,"
answered Bowman in a tone of hesitation. "When he gets well I may go
back to New York."

"I doubt if you will," thought Fred.

"Were you in a business position in New York?" asked Bowman.

"I have been for some time train boy on the Erie Railroad," answered
Fred, feeling that it would never do to mention his connection with Mr.
Wainwright.

"Train boys don't usually have money to spend on vacation trips," said
Bowman shrewdly.

"That's true," laughed Fred. "If I had depended on my savings, I
shouldn't have been able to go farther than Hoboken, or Coney Island,
but a rich friend supplied me with a moderate sum for expenses."

"Then you were in luck."

Fred was a little afraid that Bowman would inquire the name of the rich
friend, and made up his mind that he would evade answering. However,
his companion showed no curiosity on the subject.

"Will you take a glass of ale with me?" asked Bowman, as he filled his
own glass from a bottle beside his plate.

"No, thank you. I have no taste for it."

"I didn't like it myself at first but I've come to like it."

"Does your partner board with you at the hotel?" asked Fred.

"No," was the careless reply. "We have a small cottage just out of the
village."

"I wonder how he gets along for meals," thought Fred.

However that might be, Paul Bowman didn't permit anxiety to interfere
with his own appetite. He did ample justice to the supper, and so
indeed did Fred. Fortunately the ham and eggs were well cooked, and the
loaf of bread was fresh. In place of ale Fr