George made no reply. He had not looked for so prompt an endorsement of an idea that had but just suggested itself to him, and besides, his cousin was the last boy in the world he would have chosen for a companion during a journey of that kind. If he made it at all, he wanted to make it a pleasure trip; and for that reason he wanted Ned to have nothing to do with it. “I have read about the cruise of the _Rob Roy_ on the Jordan,” continued Ned, “and I’d like to make one just like it. I think a voyage down the Mississippi would be the next best thing. We ought to take our guns and some fishing tackle with us, and we shall need a tent and cooking utensils. Won’t we have fun, though? Let’s go, George.” “And while you are having so much fun what will I be doing?” asked Gus. “You!” said Ned, as if he had forgotten that there was such a boy as Gus Robbins in existence. “O, you had better go home.” “Now, Ned, you know very well that I can’t do it,” said, Gus; and he spoke so calmly that Ned looked at him in surprise. “Yes, you can. Your father said so in his letter.” “But I haven’t money enough to pay my way.” “Well, I can’t help that. You can’t expect me to pay your bills all the while.” Ned caught his breath when he said this, and looked toward his cousin, wondering what the latter would think, if he knew that a hundred dollars, which ought to have been placed in the bank for his future benefit, had been spent to bring Gus Robbins to Texas. “Write to your father,” added Ned. “What shall I do while I am waiting for an answer?” asked Gus. “How shall I live?” “You’ll have to go to work at something. I don’t know of anything else you can do.” Gus did not continue the conversation any longer. He had learned all he wanted to know. Drawing in his reins, he gradually slackened his pace, and allowed George and his cousin, who rode side by side, to pass on in advance of him. As soon as they had done so, Gus fell in behind them and shook his fist angrily at Ned. “He’s the meanest boy that was ever heard of,” said he, to himself. “I knew it all the while, and the trouble I have got into is nothing more than I deserve. I ought to have had nothing to do with him. He has got himself and me into a scrape, and now he throws me overboard, and lets me look out for myself, while he depends upon his cousin to see himself safely through. He’s got a big pile of money he can draw on, and can go off and enjoy himself, while I’ve got to stay here. For I shall not go home,” added Gus, with a most emphatic shake of his head. “Everybody in Foxboro’ knows by this time that I ran away, and I’ll not go back there and face them. There’s plenty of work to be had in this country, and right here I’ll stay until my father writes me a decent letter.”