That fate which had seemed to favor the three audacious youngsters did not desert them when the critical point in their enterprise arrived.  
The chief of police was wise in restraining any hint of what was in his mind to the parents of Tommy Wagstaff. It would have been with and made them enemies—all the more bitter, perhaps, when it should appear that the wise officer was right.
 
The youngster, having suffered so cruelly, received every compensation his friends could give him. His father reproved himself for making him stay home from the concert. Had he taken him with him, the never could have occurred.
 
The mother heaped favors upon her darling Tommy, who might have luxuriated for weeks on the general sympathy felt for him. He was visited by several newspaper reporters, who took down the thrilling account from his own lips. The chief trouble in these cases was the wide in the versions given by the lad. In some instances he insisted there were three burglars, in others only two, while to one young man in spectacles, he solemnly that there were seven by actual count, and that they were all armed with tomahawks and scalping knives. These wild statements were attributed to the lad’s nervousness instead of to the real cause.
 
But on the next afternoon, or rather evening, Tommy did not make his appearance at supper. The mother was greatly frightened and believed the robbers had returned to revenge themselves upon her darling for telling the truth about them.
 
Before the evening was late, Mr. Wagstaff learned that Tommy, accompanied by Billy Waylett and Jimmy McGovern, had been seen hurrying in the direction of the railway station. there revealed the fact all three had bought tickets for New York.
 
About this time a dim suspicion took shape in the mind of Mr. Wagstaff. He gave no hint to his wife, but he telegraphed the authorities in the to look out for three boys, and to arrest them at once and communicate with their parents, Messrs. Waylett and McGovern having joined in the request.
 
New York was so near Ashton that the arrived there more than an hour before the telegram was sent, otherwise they would have been returned to their homes the same evening.
 
Their fathers next held a conference, and on the following day to the chief of police for counsel. That gentleman listened grimly to them, and then quietly said that the robbery of Mr. Wagstaff’s home had been planned and carried out by the three lads without help from any one else. They were shocked, but when he showed Billy Waylett’s handkerchief, which had been used to check the of Tommy, and out the numerous tell-tale slips made by the boys, especially the shooting through the windows, they were convinced, and became eager to capture them at the earliest possible moment, each parent declaring that the instant his son was brought within reach, he would give him a trouncing that he would remember to his dying day.
 
It was arranged that Chief Hungerford should undertake to hunt them up, and he readily agreed to do so, for the gentlemen were warm friends of his, for whom he was ready to make any reasonable sacrifice.
 
And now that a pursuer is on the trail of the runaways, let us see how they got along.
 
The indulgence shown Tommy by his parents gave him just the opportunity he wanted. He was able to hold several meetings with his intended partners, without any one suspecting what was going on, and the arrangements were made for starting for New York on the afternoon following the supposed robbery.
 
In one respect, the lads showed a wisdom beyond their years. Knowing that prompt search would be made for them, and that they were likely to be looked upon with suspicion, they to leave the stolen where it had been placed beneath the old . If worse came to worse, they could return and draw upon it, but if they should try to sell the valuables in New York, they would be arrested on suspicion.
 
So they wisely left the jewelry behind, and took with them only a single gold watch, which Tommy wore, since it was the property of his father. They found that they had a hundred dollars in money, which, as nearly as they could learn, would carry them most of the distance they wished to go, when such bright chaps would have no trouble in hitting upon the means for raising the wind.
 
Since they expected to meet Snakeroot Sam, it was intended to send him back to Ashton, to sell the for them, inasmuch as he could readily do it without danger, and was so honest that he would turn over every penny of the proceeds to them.
 
Reaching New York ahead of the telegram, they were too wise to linger around the large station at Forty-second Street. More than likely, all three of their fathers would be there in the course of an hour or two, and it was, therefore, no place for them.
 
Since it was growing dark, they decided to put up at some obscure hotel, under assumed names, and make an early start for the West. The wisdom shown by the lads was astonishing—the oldest of whom had not seen fourteen years. They had talked and discussed the venture for months, and stored their minds with all the information obtainable. Consequently, when they sauntered out on the street, and, after some , reached Broadway, they attracted no special attention. They were well dressed, and the additional revolvers which they speedily bought were carried out of sight, so that there was no noticeable difference between them and the hundreds of other boys who may be met on any day in the great metropolis of our country.
 
Billy Waylett, being the youngest, needed some coaching, but he was , and the lads were fortunate enough to escape the sharks that are always waiting in the large cities for just such as they would have proved.
 
The only thing that worried Tommy Wagstaff was the fact that he did not know how to find Snakeroot Sam. That had been told of the intended start for the West, but, of course, the leader could not give him the precise date of their departure. It was known, however, that he spent a good deal of his time in New York city, and the leader of the party instructed his companions to keep a sharp for him. They did so, but though they pointed out several persons who answered his description, none of them proved to be the individual they were so anxious to meet, and who, doubtless, would have blessed his lucky stars could he have met them.
 
Tommy Wagstaff was satisfied that the crisis in their enterprise would come when they reached the ferry to buy their railway tickets. Officers would be on the watch for them, and if the three should present themselves at the office and pay their fare to Chicago or some other Western point, they were quite sure to be stopped and compelled to give an account of themselves.
 
Accordingly, he arranged the matter with the shrewdness he had shown from the first. They separated at the foot of Cortlandt Street and made their way into the railway office, as though they were strangers to each other. Billy had enough money to buy a ticket to New Brunswick, and Jimmy to one to Trenton, while Tommy, who had taken charge of the entire funds, paid his fare to Philadelphia. Then they passed through the narrow upon the ferryboat.
 
The three were alarmed by the sight of a blue-coated policeman, at the broad entrance to the ferry, and who them sharply as they joined the hurrying upon the boat. The officer followed Billy with his eyes, and seemed on the point of starting after him. The youngster’s heart was in his throat, and he wished that something would blow up and everybody so far apart that no policeman could see him.
 
So guarded were the boys they did not speak to each other while crossing the ferry, indulging in only an occasional sly glance, as they stepped off the boat and passed up the slip.
 
Here they were startled again, for the big policeman near the passageway to the trains, after one keen look at Billy, asked him where he was going.
 
“To New Brunswick,” was the slightly tremulous reply.
 
“Let me see your ticket,” was the gruff command.
 
Billy fished out the pasteboard and showed it to the terrible fellow, who was not yet satisfied.
 
“What are you doing in New York?”
 
“I aint in New York; I am in City.”
 
The officer smiled at the manner in which he had tripped, and asked:
 
“Where are the other two boys that came with you?”
 
Billy came nigh breaking down. He saw Tommy and Jimmy watching him from a little way, and his naturally quick wit came to his relief.
 
“What two boys are you talking ’bout? Don’t you see there’s nobody with me, and if you keep me much longer, I’ll miss the train, and father will be mad, ’cause he expects me to be home as soon as I can get there.”
 
The made as if to move forward, and the officer, satisfied he was not the one for whom he was looking, allowed him to pass on.
 
After entering the car, Tommy Wagstaff saw no risk in their companionship. Since the train was not crowded, he and Billy sat together, while Jimmy McGovern placed himself on the seat in front, where no one shared it with him.
 
There was a and novelty about this business which kept the boys in such a constant state of excitement that they had felt nothing as yet like homesickness. In fact, they were eager to get forward, and though there was much to see that was new and strange, they would have been glad could the cars have traveled with double the speed.
 
“The way I figure it out,” said the leader, feeling now that he could talk freely, since they were well under way, “is that we shall reach Philadelphia before noon. Jiminy! but that is traveling fast; shall we get off there and stay over till to-morrow?”
 
“What would we do that for?” demanded young McGovern.
 
“There’s so much to see that I didn’t know but what you would like to stop and look around.”
 
“Not much,” replied Jimmy, with a disgusted shake of his head; “we can’t get out West soon enough to suit me; I feel hungry for Injins and bears: how is it with you, Billy?”
 
“That’s me, clear through; you know we’ve got to get a Winchester apiece, and then we’ll be ready to begin popping over Injins; that’ll be more fun than anything else in the world, and what do I care for all the cities and strange things that’s between us and the West?”
 
Tommy laughed, for he was pleased.
 
“That’s just the way I feel, but I didn’t know whether you two was right up to the handle yet; I’m glad you are; it proves that we are bound to win, like real brave American boys.”
 
All three smiled approvingly on each other, and, glancing out of the window, wished the cars would run at the rate of two miles a minute, for the rest of the distance.
 
The conductor came through, punched the tickets, and took up Billy’s, because it entitled him to ride only to New Brunswick. He intended to slip off there and buy one to Philadelphia, while Jimmy would do the same at Trenton. If the Quaker City were reached without , they would conclude that all danger of being stopped was over, and from that point would travel openly and without fear.
 
The little party chatted and discussed their plans, sometimes speaking so loud in their that the gentleman sitting just across the overhead their words and looked at them more than once, over the top of his paper.
 
Just before reaching the long trestle-work which spans the Raritan, Billy said:
 
“We must be pretty near New Brunswick, Tom, and I guess you had better give me enough money to buy a ticket: how much will it be?”
 
“I don’t know; I s’pose two or three dollars; you ought to travel on half fare, but it aint worth bothering about; we’ll gather in all the funds we want in Chicago.”
 
“It strikes me,” remarked McGovern, “that we might as well divide up the money, so that if any one loses his share, we won’t be in a bad fix.”
 
“I guess that would be a good plan,” replied Tommy, who reached in his trousers pocket for the roll of bills which he had placed there.
 
He started and turned pale the next moment, and hurriedly ran his hand in his other pocket. Then he sprang to his feet and searched the pockets of his coat and vest.
 
“What’s the matter?” asked Jimmy, with a sinking of the heart.
 
“The money is gone!” was the alarming answer.
 
“No; that can’t be!” faintly exclaimed Billy; “it must be somewhere about you.”
 
“I put the roll in that, pocket,” replied Tommy, who kept up his search, through all the receptacles, again and again. Then he stooped down, and hunted under the seats with a nervous which was fully shared by his companions.
 
Finally he straightened up and said, despairingly:
 
“My pocket has been picked, and we haven’t a dollar among us.”
 
He the truth.