"That is true," thought Andy; "and I have time enough."

At length Robinson signaled to the conductor to stop.

Andy followed him out of the car. They seemed to be in the very
outskirts of the city.

Robinson led the way to a rather shabby brick house standing by itself.
It was three stories in height.

"This is where my friend lives," he said, walking up the front steps and
ringing the front-door bell.

Two minutes later the door was opened by a red-haired man in his shirt
sleeves.

"Hello, Tom!" he exclaimed.

"I thought his name was Percival," Andy said to himself.

"My young friend and I will stay overnight with you," said Robinson.

"All right. Come in."

A door on the left was opened, and Andy saw a sanded floor, and on one
side of the room a bar.

"Go in there a minute," said Robinson, "while I speak to my friend."

Andy went in, and picked up a copy of the _Clipper_ from the table--the