The room was a good one, with a soft bed.  No sooner did Duncan reach it than he sank down, and in five minutes he was fast asleep.

I was in a quandary as to what to do.  I did not care to leave him in his present state, and at the same time I was anxious to find Mr. Harrison and visit Mrs. Agatha Mitts in Brooklyn.

I wondered if my kind friend from Chicago had gone on without me, until I suddenly remembered that the Brooklyn address was in my pocket, and that he probably did not remember the street and number.

This being the case, he had no doubt returned to the hotel and was awaiting me.

I looked at Duncan, and made up my mind that he would sleep several hours, if not longer, without awaking.

Making him as comfortable as possible on the bed, I left the room, locking the door behind me.

Down in the office I explained the situation to the clerk when I left the key, and he promised to attend to matters if anything unusual happened.

I was not very well acquainted with New York City, and in trying to find my way to the hotel at which Mr. Harrison was stopping, I nearly lost my way.

But several inquiries, made here and there, set me right, and at length I reached the large, open corridor.

As I was about to step into the office, a well-known voice hailed me.

“Well, here you are at last.”  Of course it was Mr. Harrison.

“Yes, sir.”

“Did I lose you, or vice versa?” he went on.

“I don’t know.  I’m sure it wasn’t intentional, anyway.”

“Have you been over to Brooklyn?” he continued curiously.

“No, sir.”

“I thought you had; it is so long since we parted.”

“I’ve had quite an adventure in the meantime.”

“Indeed?  You didn’t meet Chris Holtzmann or this Aaron Woodward, did you?”

“I met Mr. Woodward’s son,” I replied, and in a brief way I related my adventures.  Mr. Harrison listened with deep interest.

“It is too bad that the son has started in such a wrong path,” he said.  “I trust it teaches him a lesson to let liquor alone.  What do you intend to do now?”

“I suppose I had better go back and stay all night with him.  It is now too late to go to Brooklyn.”

“I think you are right.  I can call for you at, say, eight o’clock in the morning.”

This was agreed upon, and as it was then after nine o’clock, I hurried back to Duncan at once.  I found him still sleeping, and I did not disturb him.  There was a lounge in the room, and throwing off my coat, vest, and shoes, I made my bed upon this.

For once I found it difficult to sleep.  It seemed to me that my adventures must soon come to an end.  Was it the foreshadowing of coming events that disturbed me?  I could not tell.  I wondered how all were at home; my sister Kate, Uncle Enos, and the Widow Canby, and I prayed God that I might be permitted to bring good news to them.