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observation car, and the boys saw to it that the girls and the ladies got good seats, where they might see all that they passed.

      The afternoon found them rolling in the direction of Buffalo, which they were to reach before it was time to retire for the night. Then the train would pass through Cleveland while they slept, on its way to Chicago.

      "I'll be glad to get a look at Chicago," said Ben Basswood, who had not done much traveling.

      "We are to take a tour in a rubber-neck wagon," he added.

      "A rubber-neck wagon!" cried his mother. "Benjamin, what language!"

      "Well, that is what they usually call the touring automobiles," he answered, with a grin.

      To some of the folks on the trip, going to bed on a train was much of a novelty, and they watched with interest while the porters made up the berths.

      "Do you remember the time we had Billy Dill along, and what he thought of sleeping on a train?" remarked Dave, to Phil and Roger.

      "I sure do," answered the shipowner's son, with a chuckle. "When he saw the seats converted into beds he wanted to know if they didn't have a ballroom aboard, or a church, or a farm," and at the recollection of the old tar's questions all in the party had to laugh.

      "Where is this Billy Dill now?" asked Shadow.

      "Safe in an old sailors' home," answered Dave. "He took a trip or two to sea, but he couldn't stand it, so we had him put in the home."

      "You've got him to thank for a good deal, Dave," remarked the senator's son, in low tones.

      "Yes, and I'll never forget Billy Dill," answered our hero, as he remembered how the old tar had helped him to find his Uncle Dunston, as related in detail in "Dave Porter in the South Seas."

      Mr. Dunston Porter had found some congenial spirits in the smoking-compartment of the car and spent a good deal of his time there. He met a man who had done considerable hunting in the West, and the two "swapped yarns," as Mr. Porter said afterwards.

      Only a short stop was made at Buffalo, just long enough to allow the boys and some of the men to stretch their legs on the depot platform, and then the excursion train started on its trip along the shore of Lake Erie towards the great Windy City, as Chicago is sometimes called.

      Morning found the party well on the way to Chicago, and that metropolis of the Great Lakes was reached about noon. Lunch had already been served, and at the depot all hands found a string of touring automobiles awaiting them, to take them around to various points of interest, including the business section, the finer residential district, and Lincoln Park, with its Zological Garden. Some of the party went in a different direction, to visit the Stock Yards, that great place where hundreds of cattle are slaughtered daily.

      "By the great tin dipper!" cried Phil, suddenly, when waiting for the automobile in which he and some others sat to start off. "Look who's here!"

      "Jim Murphy!" cried Dave and Roger, in a breath.

      "So it is!" came from Shadow. "Hi, Jim!" he called out. "Don't you know us any more?"

      The young man they addressed, a tall fellow of Irish parentage, who stood on the sidewalk, turned swiftly. Then his face broke into a grin, and he rushed forward.

      "Sure, an' what do you think of this now!" he exclaimed. "Dave Porter, an' Phil Lawrence, an' Roger Morr, and Shadow Hamilton, an', sure enough, Ben Basswood! Say, what is this, a tour o' Oak Hall boys!" and the former monitor of that institution of learning smiled more broadly than ever.

      "We are on an excursion," explained Dave, and gave some details. "What are you doing in Chicago, Jim?" he went on.

      "Sure I got a job here, after I left Oak Hall."

      "What are you doing?" questioned Roger.

      "I'm one of the gatemen in the train shed. But I expect to get a better job than that in a week or two--it's promised to me," added the former monitor. "An', by the way, lots of Oak Hall boys passing through Chicago now," he continued.

      "What do you mean?" asked Phil, quickly. "Whom did you see?"

      "Saw Teddy Fells about a week ago, and two days ago I saw Link Merwell."

      "Merwell!" came from several of the youths.

      "Was he alone?" questioned Dave.

      "No, he had Mr. Haskers with him. Haskers lost his job at the Hall, didn't he?"

      "Yes."

      "I thought so, for the minute he and Merwell spotted me they got out of sight in a hurry."

      "Where were they going?" asked Phil.

      "I'm sure I don't know. They got off the Eastern Express, and left the depot in a hurry. They acted as if they didn't want anybody to notice 'em."

      "All ready!" came the cry of the man in charge of the touring automobiles, and then one after another the turnouts rolled away from the depot.

      "Shall we stay here and look into this?" asked Dave, of Roger and Phil.

      "What's the use?" returned the shipowner's son. "It isn't likely they are here now." And then the boys waved a good-by to big Jim Murphy, and the automobile passed out of the former monitor's sight.

      Laura and Jessie had heard what was said and they were as much disturbed as the boys themselves, if not more so.

      "Oh, Dave, do you think Haskers and Merwell are following you?" asked his sister, anxiously.

      "They can't be following us if they are ahead of us," he replied, with a faint smile.

      "Well, you know what I mean."

      "I don't know what to think, Laura. Merwell may be going West to join his folks. They are somewhere out there."

      "But Haskers----"

      "He may be sticking to Link because Link has money--he gets it from his parents, who don't want to see him caught and sent to prison, as was the case with Jasniff. I think Job Haskers was always a good sponge when it came to getting something out of other people."

      "Maybe you are right. Oh, I hope we don't meet them on this trip!" And Laura shuddered; she could not exactly tell why.

      The touring trip took the Crumville folks first to the business section of Chicago, and the man in front, with a megaphone, bawled out the various points of interest. Then the touring-cars, in a sort of procession, moved to a residential section, fronting Lake Michigan, with its palatial homes.

      "Just as fine as Riverside Drive, New York," was Dave's comment.

      "Every large city in the United States has its beautiful section," remarked Dunston Porter.

      They were soon in Lincoln Park, and here a stop was made to look at the animals in the Zoo. The young people had a good deal of fun with the monkeys, and with a couple of bears that stood up to box each other.

      Five o'clock found the party back to the depot, ready to board the train once more. As they stood near the car steps talking, a porter of the car touched Roger on the arm.

      "Excuse me, Mr. Morr," he said, "but did you send a man here for your suit-case?"

      "I certainly did not!" cried the senator's son.

      "You didn't!" gasped the colored porter, and at once showed his excitement. "Well, one came here, with a written order for your suit-case, and I done gave it to him!"

      CHAPTER XIII

      DAVE SEES SOMETHING

      "You gave somebody my suit-case!" cried

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