Bog felt safe in his disguise--or rather his original and
native dress.
When the stage stopped to take in or let out passengers, Bog slipped
from his perch, and hid himself from the driver's sight. Long experience
had taught him how to render himself invisible to that vindictive
personage.
The stage rolled on to the Greenpoint ferry, dropping all its passengers
by the way, excepting the pursued and the pursuer. It was now evident
that young Van Quintem was going to Greenpoint.
The ferry boat was not in, and would not be in, and ready to leave
again, for ten minutes. Bog, having seen his game enter the ferry house,
thereby conclusively proving his intention to cross the river, slipped
into a boiler yard near the ferry. There, against a post, he scrawled
with a stump of pencil, on the back of two playbills (which he had
brought with him for stationery), two notes, as follows:
Tuesday Evening, about 8 o'clock.
Please come to the ferry house on the Greenpoint side, and
wait there till I send for you. BOG.
These notes he addressed to Mr.
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