"What on earth is the matter with people? Everybody seems to delight in
painting this most delectable of undertakings in the most funereal
colors!" and went on anxiously: "You're sure you won't miss, her?"

With an indulgent smile for the youth and inexperience of his patron,
and glancing surreptitiously at the size of the bill in his hand, the
attendant calmly announced that there was not the faintest possibility
of an error. He took his position a little to the right of and behind
Hugh, like an adjutant at dress parade. Through the ferry rushed the
weary, impatient travellers. Owing to the place Hugh had taken at one
side of the run, Grace, at first, did not perceive him. Anxiety, almost
fright, showed in her face; there passed through her a thrill of
consternation at the thought that perhaps he had not received her
telegram. The tense figure clasped the travelling-bag convulsively, and
her brown eyes flashed a look of alarm over the waiting throng. Another
moment and their gaze met; a voice ringing with happiness assailed her;
her heart throbbed again, and the blood rushed back to her
troubled face.

Hugh started forward.

"Hello, old man!" came suddenly from out of the crowd, and two heavy
bags plunked down on the floor; two strong hands grabbed Hugh by the
shoulders and their owner cried out boisterously: "What in the name of
all the gods are you doing here in New York?"

Hugh's heart was in his mouth. His blood froze within him. For, shaking
him with the embrace of a playful bear, was his old friend McLane
Woods--his chum at Princeton.