Finally it was safely taken out of the cave, and along the stone passage to the opening formed by the overthrown trees, and thence on to camp.
And at the camp a surprise awaited Tom.
Some long-delayed mail had been forwarded from the nearest place of civilization and there were letters for all, including several for our hero. One in particular he picked out first and read eagerly.
“Well, is every little thing all right, Tom?” asked Ned, as he saw a cheerful grin spread itself over his chum’s face.
“I should say it is, and then some! Look here, Ned. This is a letter from — — ”
“I know. Mary Nestor. Go on.”
“How’d you guess?”
“Oh, I’m a mind-reader.”
“Huh! Well, you know she was away when I went to call to say good-bye, and I was a little afraid Beecher had got an inside edge on me.”
“Had he?”
“No, but he tried hard enough. He went to see Mary in Fayetteville, just as you heard, before
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he came on to join his party, but he didn’t pay much of a visit to her.”
“No?”
“No. Mary told him he’d better hurry along to Central America, or wherever it was he intended going, as she didn’t care for him as much as he flattered himself she did.”
“Good!” cried Ned. “Shake, old man. I’m glad!”
They shook hands.
“Well, what’s the matter? Didn’t you read all of her letter?” asked Ned when he saw his chum once more perusing the epistle.
“No. There’s a postscript here.
“ `Sorry I couldn’t see you before you left. It was a mistake, but when you come back — — ‘
“Oh, that part isn’t any of your affair!” and, blushing under his tan, Tom thrust the letter into his pocket and strode away, while Ned laughed happily.