CHAPTER XXIX
A RIVAL RAILROAD
There was some mystery about Farwell Gibson, Ralph decided, and the more he scanned what he knew of his past, his peculiar method of sending the letter to his father, and Van's guarded manner, the more he was satisfied that there was a puzzle of some kind to solve.
The sun was going down and night was coming on apace. Ralph propounded a pertinent query.
"What is your next move, Van?"
"I don't mind telling you—to get after that one-horse gig."
"It's home by this time, probably."
"I intend to follow it."
"I think I had better go with you, Van," suggested Ralph.
"Why not? You don't think I am anxious to shake the best friend I ever had, do you? There's just this, though: Mr. Gibson is a kind of a hermit."
"And does not like strange society? I see.
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