"What had I better do?" he asked himself. "If I stay here I'm liable to arrest any moment. If I go home I'm sure of it as soon as I get off the train, as every one at the depot knows me. But they don't here," he added, as a thought came to him. "That's one good thing. I'm an utter stranger in New York. The only persons who know me are my uncle and aunt. They are far enough off. Of course there's Mary the servant girl, but I guess she's not liable to meet me. Besides, she wouldn't know the police wanted me. Then there's Mr. Skem, but I guess he's too busy himself, dodging the officers, to be found in this vicinity. "That's the best thing to do," Ned decided. "I'll stay in New York until--well until something happens. But the worst of it is I can't even write to the folks at home. I can't let them know what has occurred. I wonder what the boys will do when they come and find the house closed? If I send a letter to father the postal authorities can trace where it came from and get me. A telegram would be as bad. I'm just like a prisoner who can't communicate with his friends. The only thing to do is to stick it out until something happens. If they would only arrest Skem & Skim maybe their testimony would clear me. But I guess they're not likely to catch them. I've got to stick it out alone and it's going to be hard work." By this time Ned felt he was far enough away from the depot to render capture in the immediate future out of the question. He felt he could risk walking a little slower, for it was no joke to hurry along a mile or more carrying his valise, even though it was not a large one. "I believe I'm hungry," he said, as he came in front of a small restaurant. He had taken no food since breakfast and it was now about four o'clock in the afternoon. "I'll feel better after I've eaten. Besides I've got to stay somewhere to-night. I must look for a hotel." He did feel more encouraged after he had dined, and, on inquiring of the cashier in the restaurant, where he could find a cheap but decent hotel, was directed to the Imperial a few blocks distant, back toward the station. Ned thought this would be safe enough. "I'd better take an account of stock," he remarked to himself as he started for the hotel. "Most of my clothes are in the trunk, and so is the check dad gave me to have uncle cash. I can't get at that, and I guess I wouldn't if I could. I'd have to endorse it to cash it, and when I wrote my name whoever saw it might tell the police." Ned's imagination probably made things seem worse than they really were, but he was unaccustomed to city ways, and the memory of the inspector's words, and the angry men who had lost money through Skem & Skim acted as an incentive for him to do everything possible to avoid arrest, which he felt would follow any disclosure of his identity, such as would result from endorsing a check.