present occasion I'm mightily interested in seeing and hearing all that's going on."
There was something unaccountable about Ned Foreman's dread of his professed relative. He passed into the reception-room, but he was trembling all over and his face was pale and frightened.
President Elliott sat near a table, and the tramp whom Frank knew as Tim Brady was standing up in front of him.
He did not look much like the fellow Frank had rescued Ned from at Tipton.
In his hand he carried a high silk hat. He was clean shaven, and his hair was combed and plastered down over his bullet head. His clerical-looking frock coat was buttoned up to the chin. His face was drawn in a hypocritical expression of great concern.
"Ah, my boy! my boy!" he exclaimed, jumping about and rushing at Ned, extending both hands as if about to greet some beloved friend.
Ned Foreman shrank from his obnoxious relative in horror.
