CHAPTERXVI.THE CONSPIRACY.

CHAPTERXVI.THE CONSPIRACY.OLIVER did not find his work in the store very laborious. During some parts of the day there was little custom, and therefore little to do. At such times he found John Meadows, though not a refined, at any rate an amusing companion. With his friendly help he soon got a general idea of the stock and the prices. He found that the former was generally of an inferior quality, and the customers belonged to the poorer classes. Obtaining a general idea of the receipts, he began to doubtMr.Kenyon's assurance of the profits of the business. He intimated as much to his fellow-clerk."The old man sold you," he said. "Bond doesn't take in more than twenty thousand dollars a year, and there isn't more than a tenth profit.""You are sure of that, John?""Yes.""ThenMr.Kenyon has deceived me. I wonder what for.""Does he love you very much?""Who?""Old Kenyon.""Not enough to hurt him," said Oliver, with a smile."Then he wanted to get rid of you, and made you think this was a splendid opening.""I don't know but you are right," returned Oliver thoughtfully. "He seemed very kind, though.""He's an old fox. I knew it as soon as I set eyes on him.""I didn't enjoy myself much at home. I would just as soon be here. I don't like this store particularly, but I like New York.""Lots goin' on here all the time. Don't you want to go out in a torchlight procession to-night? I can get you the chance.""No, I think not.""I like it. I've been out ever so many times. Sometimes I'm a Democrat and sometimesI'm a Republican. It makes no difference to me so long as I have fun."Three weeks passed without developing anything to affect our hero's fortunes.About this time Ezekiel Bond received the following note from his uncle:I think you may as well carry out, without any further delay, the plan on which you agreed when Oliver entered your employment. I consider it desirable that he should be got rid of at once. As soon as anything happens, apprise me by letter.B. Kenyon.Ezekiel Bond shrugged his shoulders when he received this letter."I can't quite understand what Uncle Benjamin is driving at," he said to himself. "He's got the property, and I can't see how the boy stands in the way. However, I am under obligations to him, and must carry out his wishes."Ten minutes later he entered the store from the back room, and said to Oliver:"Have you any objection to going out for me?""No, sir," answered Oliver with alacrity.He was glad to escape for a time from the confinement of the store and breathe the outside air. John Meadows would have rebelled against being employed as an errand boy, but Oliver had no such pride."Here is a sealed letter which I wish carried to the address marked on it. Be careful of it for it contains a twenty-dollar bill. Look out for pick-pockets.""Yes, sir."Oliver put the letter in his coat pocket, put on his hat, and went out into the street. The distance was about a mile, but as trade was dull at that hour, he decided to walk, knowing that he could easily be spared from the store.The note was addressed to a tailor who had been making a business coat forMr.Bond.Oliver entered the tailor's shop and inquired for James Norcross, the head of the establishment.An elderly man said: "That is my name," and opened the letter.He read it, and then turned to Oliver."Where is the money!" he demanded."What money?" asked Oliver, surprised."Your employer writes me that he encloses twenty dollars—the amount due me—and wishes me to send back a receipt by you.""Well, sir?""There is no money in the letter," said the tailor, looking sharply at Oliver."I don't understand it at all, sir," said Oliver, disturbed."Has the letter gone out of your possession?""No, sir. I put it in my pocket and it has remained there.""How, then, could the money be lost?""I thinkMr.Bond may have neglected to put it in. Shall I go back and ask him about it?"AgainMr.Norcross looked in Oliver's face. Certainly there was no guilt expressed there, only concerned surprise."Perhaps you had better," he said. "You saw me open the letter?""Yes, sir.""Then you can bear witness that there was nothing in it. Report this toMr.Bond, andask him to send me up the money to-morrow at latest, as I need it to help meet a note.""I will, sir. I am sorry there has been any mistake about it.""Mr.Bond must certainly have forgotten to put in the bill. I presume he has found out his mistake by this time," thought Oliver.He had no suspicion that there was no mistake at all—that it was a conspiracy against his own reputation, instigated byMr.Kenyon, and artfully carried out by Ezekiel Bond.

OLIVER did not find his work in the store very laborious. During some parts of the day there was little custom, and therefore little to do. At such times he found John Meadows, though not a refined, at any rate an amusing companion. With his friendly help he soon got a general idea of the stock and the prices. He found that the former was generally of an inferior quality, and the customers belonged to the poorer classes. Obtaining a general idea of the receipts, he began to doubtMr.Kenyon's assurance of the profits of the business. He intimated as much to his fellow-clerk.

"The old man sold you," he said. "Bond doesn't take in more than twenty thousand dollars a year, and there isn't more than a tenth profit."

"You are sure of that, John?"

"Yes."

"ThenMr.Kenyon has deceived me. I wonder what for."

"Does he love you very much?"

"Who?"

"Old Kenyon."

"Not enough to hurt him," said Oliver, with a smile.

"Then he wanted to get rid of you, and made you think this was a splendid opening."

"I don't know but you are right," returned Oliver thoughtfully. "He seemed very kind, though."

"He's an old fox. I knew it as soon as I set eyes on him."

"I didn't enjoy myself much at home. I would just as soon be here. I don't like this store particularly, but I like New York."

"Lots goin' on here all the time. Don't you want to go out in a torchlight procession to-night? I can get you the chance."

"No, I think not."

"I like it. I've been out ever so many times. Sometimes I'm a Democrat and sometimesI'm a Republican. It makes no difference to me so long as I have fun."

Three weeks passed without developing anything to affect our hero's fortunes.

About this time Ezekiel Bond received the following note from his uncle:

I think you may as well carry out, without any further delay, the plan on which you agreed when Oliver entered your employment. I consider it desirable that he should be got rid of at once. As soon as anything happens, apprise me by letter.B. Kenyon.

I think you may as well carry out, without any further delay, the plan on which you agreed when Oliver entered your employment. I consider it desirable that he should be got rid of at once. As soon as anything happens, apprise me by letter.

B. Kenyon.

Ezekiel Bond shrugged his shoulders when he received this letter.

"I can't quite understand what Uncle Benjamin is driving at," he said to himself. "He's got the property, and I can't see how the boy stands in the way. However, I am under obligations to him, and must carry out his wishes."

Ten minutes later he entered the store from the back room, and said to Oliver:

"Have you any objection to going out for me?"

"No, sir," answered Oliver with alacrity.

He was glad to escape for a time from the confinement of the store and breathe the outside air. John Meadows would have rebelled against being employed as an errand boy, but Oliver had no such pride.

"Here is a sealed letter which I wish carried to the address marked on it. Be careful of it for it contains a twenty-dollar bill. Look out for pick-pockets."

"Yes, sir."

Oliver put the letter in his coat pocket, put on his hat, and went out into the street. The distance was about a mile, but as trade was dull at that hour, he decided to walk, knowing that he could easily be spared from the store.

The note was addressed to a tailor who had been making a business coat forMr.Bond.

Oliver entered the tailor's shop and inquired for James Norcross, the head of the establishment.

An elderly man said: "That is my name," and opened the letter.

He read it, and then turned to Oliver.

"Where is the money!" he demanded.

"What money?" asked Oliver, surprised.

"Your employer writes me that he encloses twenty dollars—the amount due me—and wishes me to send back a receipt by you."

"Well, sir?"

"There is no money in the letter," said the tailor, looking sharply at Oliver.

"I don't understand it at all, sir," said Oliver, disturbed.

"Has the letter gone out of your possession?"

"No, sir. I put it in my pocket and it has remained there."

"How, then, could the money be lost?"

"I thinkMr.Bond may have neglected to put it in. Shall I go back and ask him about it?"

AgainMr.Norcross looked in Oliver's face. Certainly there was no guilt expressed there, only concerned surprise.

"Perhaps you had better," he said. "You saw me open the letter?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you can bear witness that there was nothing in it. Report this toMr.Bond, andask him to send me up the money to-morrow at latest, as I need it to help meet a note."

"I will, sir. I am sorry there has been any mistake about it."

"Mr.Bond must certainly have forgotten to put in the bill. I presume he has found out his mistake by this time," thought Oliver.

He had no suspicion that there was no mistake at all—that it was a conspiracy against his own reputation, instigated byMr.Kenyon, and artfully carried out by Ezekiel Bond.

CHAPTERXVII.OLIVER LOSES HIS PLACE.OLIVER re-entered the store and went up toMr.Bond, who was standing behind the counter awaiting his return."Have you brought back the receipt?" asked his employer, before he had a chance to speak."No, sir.""Why not?" demanded Bond, frowning."There was some mistake,Mr.Bond. The letter you gave me contained no money.""Contained no money! What do you mean?" exclaimed the storekeeper.Oliver briefly related the circumstances, repeating that the letter contained no money."Do you mean to tell me such an unblushing falsehood," demanded Ezekiel Bond, "expecting me to believe it?""Mr.Bond," said Oliver, with dignity, "itis just as I say. There was no money in the letter.""Silence!" roared Bond, working himself up into a premeditated excitement. "I tell you I put the money in myself. I think I ought to know whether there was any money in it.""It is very strange, sir. I sawMr.Norcross open the letter. If he had taken any bill out, I should have seen it.""I presume you would," sneered Bond. "I dare say he did find the letter empty."Oliver looked puzzled. He was not yet prepared for an accusation. He attributedMr.Bond's anger to his annoyance at the loss of twenty dollars. He kept silent, but waited to hear what else his employer had to say."I can understand this strange matter," continued Ezekiel, with another sneer. "I am not altogether a fool, and I can tell you why no bill was found.""Why, sir?""Because you opened the letter and took the money out before you reached the tailor's."He was about to say more, but Oliver interrupted him by an indignant denial."That's a lie, sir!" he said hotly. "I don't care who says it.""Do you mean to tell me I lie?" exclaimed Ezekiel Bond, purple with rage."If you charge me with stealing the money, I do!" said Oliver, his face flaming with just indignation."You hear that, John Meadows?" said Ezekiel, turning to his other clerk. "Did you ever hear such impudence?"John Meadows was not a coward nor a sneak, and he had not the slightest belief in Oliver's guilt. To his credit, he dared manfully to avow it."Mr.Bond," he answered, "I don't believe Oliver would do such a thing. I know him well, and I've always found him right side up with care.""Thank you, John," said Oliver gratefully. "I am glad there is one who believes I am not a thief.""You don't believe he is guilty because you are honest yourself, John," saidMr.Bond,willing to gain over his older clerk by a little flattery. "But how can it be otherwise? I put the money very carefully in the envelope. Oliver put it in his pocket, and when he hands the letter toMr.Norcross it is empty.""Are you sure you put the money in, sir?" asked John."Am I sure the sun rose this morning?" retortedMr.Bond. "Of course, I am certain; and I am morally certain that Oliver took the money. Hark, you! I will give you one chance to redeem yourself," he continued, addressing our hero. "Give me back the money and I will forgive you this time.""Mr.Bond," said Oliver indignantly, "you insult me by speaking in that way! Once for all, I tell you that I don't know anything about the money, and no one who knows me will believe your charge. You may search me if you want to.""It would do no great good," said Bond sarcastically. "You have had plenty of chances to dispose of the money. You could easily pass it over to some confederate.""Mr.Bond," said Oliver, "I see that youare determined to have people believe me guilty. I think I understand what it all means. It is a conspiracy to destroy my reputation. You know there was no money in the letter you sent by me.""Say that again, you young rascal, and I will give you a flogging!" shouted Ezekiel Bond, now really angry, for he was conscious that Oliver spoke the truth, and the truth is very distasteful sometimes."I don't think you will," retorted our hero undauntedly; "there are policemen in the city, and I should give you in charge.""You would, would you? I have a great mind to have you arrested for theft.""Do, if you like. I am willing to have the matter investigated."It was evident that in attempting to frighten OliverMr.Bond had undertaken a difficult job. He would really have liked to give Oliver in charge, but he knew very well that he could prove nothing against him. Besides, he would be exceeding the instructions whichMr.Kenyon had given him, and this he did not venture to do. There was, however, oneway of revenge open to him, and this was in strict accordance with his orders."I will spare you the disgrace of arrest," he said, "not for your own sake, but for the sake of my esteemed uncle, who will be deeply grieved when he hears of this occurrence. But I cannot consent any longer to retain you in my employment. I will not ask my faithful clerk, John Meadows, to associate with a thief.""I don't care to remain in your employment,Mr.Bond. I would not consent to, until you retracted your false charge. As to you, John," he continued, turning to John Meadows, with a smile, "I hope you are not afraid to associate with me.""I guess 'twon't hurt me much," said John courageously. "I thinkMr.Bond has made a great mistake in suspecting you.""You judge him by yourself," saidMr.Bond, who chose not to fall out with John. "You may do as you please, but I can no longer employ a suspicious character.""Good-morning,Mr.Bond," said Oliver proudly. "I will lose no time in relievingyou of my presence. John, I will see you to-night.""One word more," said his employer. "I shall deem it my duty to acquaint my uncle with my reasons for dismissing you. I know it will grieve him deeply.""I think he will manage to live through it," said Oliver sarcastically. "I shall also send him an account of the occurrence, and he may believe whichever of us he pleases."Oliver took his hat and left the store."I fear he is a hardened young rascal, John," Bond remarked to his remaining clerk, with a hypocritical sigh. "My uncle warned me that I might have trouble with him, when he first placed him here.""I never saw anything bad in him,Mr.Bond," said John. "I am sorry he is gone.""He has deceived you, and I am not surprised. He is very artful—exceedingly artful!" repeated Ezekiel, emphasizing the adverb by prolonging its pronunciation. "I don't mind the loss of the money so much as I do losing my confidence in him. So young, and such a reprobate! It is sad—sad!""He does it well," thought John. "What a precious old file he is, to be sure! I don't believe old Kenyon is any better, either. They come of the same stock, and it's a bad one."Before the store closed for the day, Ezekiel said:"Shall you see Oliver to-night?""I expect to, sir.""Then I will trouble you to give him this money—six dollars. I owe him for half a week, and it was at that rate my uncle requested me to pay him. Twelve dollars a week! Why, he might have grown rich on that, if he had remained honest.""I wish you would give me the same chance,Mr.Bond," said John. "I can't rub along very well on eight.""Don't ask me now, just after I have been robbed of twenty dollars. I can't afford it.""I wish I could get another place," thought John. "I should like to work for a man I could respect, even if he didn't pay me any more."

OLIVER re-entered the store and went up toMr.Bond, who was standing behind the counter awaiting his return.

"Have you brought back the receipt?" asked his employer, before he had a chance to speak.

"No, sir."

"Why not?" demanded Bond, frowning.

"There was some mistake,Mr.Bond. The letter you gave me contained no money."

"Contained no money! What do you mean?" exclaimed the storekeeper.

Oliver briefly related the circumstances, repeating that the letter contained no money.

"Do you mean to tell me such an unblushing falsehood," demanded Ezekiel Bond, "expecting me to believe it?"

"Mr.Bond," said Oliver, with dignity, "itis just as I say. There was no money in the letter."

"Silence!" roared Bond, working himself up into a premeditated excitement. "I tell you I put the money in myself. I think I ought to know whether there was any money in it."

"It is very strange, sir. I sawMr.Norcross open the letter. If he had taken any bill out, I should have seen it."

"I presume you would," sneered Bond. "I dare say he did find the letter empty."

Oliver looked puzzled. He was not yet prepared for an accusation. He attributedMr.Bond's anger to his annoyance at the loss of twenty dollars. He kept silent, but waited to hear what else his employer had to say.

"I can understand this strange matter," continued Ezekiel, with another sneer. "I am not altogether a fool, and I can tell you why no bill was found."

"Why, sir?"

"Because you opened the letter and took the money out before you reached the tailor's."

He was about to say more, but Oliver interrupted him by an indignant denial.

"That's a lie, sir!" he said hotly. "I don't care who says it."

"Do you mean to tell me I lie?" exclaimed Ezekiel Bond, purple with rage.

"If you charge me with stealing the money, I do!" said Oliver, his face flaming with just indignation.

"You hear that, John Meadows?" said Ezekiel, turning to his other clerk. "Did you ever hear such impudence?"

John Meadows was not a coward nor a sneak, and he had not the slightest belief in Oliver's guilt. To his credit, he dared manfully to avow it.

"Mr.Bond," he answered, "I don't believe Oliver would do such a thing. I know him well, and I've always found him right side up with care."

"Thank you, John," said Oliver gratefully. "I am glad there is one who believes I am not a thief."

"You don't believe he is guilty because you are honest yourself, John," saidMr.Bond,willing to gain over his older clerk by a little flattery. "But how can it be otherwise? I put the money very carefully in the envelope. Oliver put it in his pocket, and when he hands the letter toMr.Norcross it is empty."

"Are you sure you put the money in, sir?" asked John.

"Am I sure the sun rose this morning?" retortedMr.Bond. "Of course, I am certain; and I am morally certain that Oliver took the money. Hark, you! I will give you one chance to redeem yourself," he continued, addressing our hero. "Give me back the money and I will forgive you this time."

"Mr.Bond," said Oliver indignantly, "you insult me by speaking in that way! Once for all, I tell you that I don't know anything about the money, and no one who knows me will believe your charge. You may search me if you want to."

"It would do no great good," said Bond sarcastically. "You have had plenty of chances to dispose of the money. You could easily pass it over to some confederate."

"Mr.Bond," said Oliver, "I see that youare determined to have people believe me guilty. I think I understand what it all means. It is a conspiracy to destroy my reputation. You know there was no money in the letter you sent by me."

"Say that again, you young rascal, and I will give you a flogging!" shouted Ezekiel Bond, now really angry, for he was conscious that Oliver spoke the truth, and the truth is very distasteful sometimes.

"I don't think you will," retorted our hero undauntedly; "there are policemen in the city, and I should give you in charge."

"You would, would you? I have a great mind to have you arrested for theft."

"Do, if you like. I am willing to have the matter investigated."

It was evident that in attempting to frighten OliverMr.Bond had undertaken a difficult job. He would really have liked to give Oliver in charge, but he knew very well that he could prove nothing against him. Besides, he would be exceeding the instructions whichMr.Kenyon had given him, and this he did not venture to do. There was, however, oneway of revenge open to him, and this was in strict accordance with his orders.

"I will spare you the disgrace of arrest," he said, "not for your own sake, but for the sake of my esteemed uncle, who will be deeply grieved when he hears of this occurrence. But I cannot consent any longer to retain you in my employment. I will not ask my faithful clerk, John Meadows, to associate with a thief."

"I don't care to remain in your employment,Mr.Bond. I would not consent to, until you retracted your false charge. As to you, John," he continued, turning to John Meadows, with a smile, "I hope you are not afraid to associate with me."

"I guess 'twon't hurt me much," said John courageously. "I thinkMr.Bond has made a great mistake in suspecting you."

"You judge him by yourself," saidMr.Bond, who chose not to fall out with John. "You may do as you please, but I can no longer employ a suspicious character."

"Good-morning,Mr.Bond," said Oliver proudly. "I will lose no time in relievingyou of my presence. John, I will see you to-night."

"One word more," said his employer. "I shall deem it my duty to acquaint my uncle with my reasons for dismissing you. I know it will grieve him deeply."

"I think he will manage to live through it," said Oliver sarcastically. "I shall also send him an account of the occurrence, and he may believe whichever of us he pleases."

Oliver took his hat and left the store.

"I fear he is a hardened young rascal, John," Bond remarked to his remaining clerk, with a hypocritical sigh. "My uncle warned me that I might have trouble with him, when he first placed him here."

"I never saw anything bad in him,Mr.Bond," said John. "I am sorry he is gone."

"He has deceived you, and I am not surprised. He is very artful—exceedingly artful!" repeated Ezekiel, emphasizing the adverb by prolonging its pronunciation. "I don't mind the loss of the money so much as I do losing my confidence in him. So young, and such a reprobate! It is sad—sad!"

"He does it well," thought John. "What a precious old file he is, to be sure! I don't believe old Kenyon is any better, either. They come of the same stock, and it's a bad one."

Before the store closed for the day, Ezekiel said:

"Shall you see Oliver to-night?"

"I expect to, sir."

"Then I will trouble you to give him this money—six dollars. I owe him for half a week, and it was at that rate my uncle requested me to pay him. Twelve dollars a week! Why, he might have grown rich on that, if he had remained honest."

"I wish you would give me the same chance,Mr.Bond," said John. "I can't rub along very well on eight."

"Don't ask me now, just after I have been robbed of twenty dollars. I can't afford it."

"I wish I could get another place," thought John. "I should like to work for a man I could respect, even if he didn't pay me any more."

CHAPTERXVIII.OLIVER, THE OUTCAST.WITHOUT much hope of obtaining sympathy or credence, Oliver wrote to his step-father an account of the charge whichMr.Bond had brought against him, and denied in the most positive terms its truth."There," he said to himself as he posted the letter, "that is all I can do.Mr.Kenyon must now decide which he will believe."Until he should hear from his step-father he decided not to form any plans for the future. One thing he was decided upon, not to return home. Since his mother's death (for he supposed her dead) it was no home for him. He had been in the city long enough to become fond of city life, and he meant to remain there. IfMr.Kenyon chose to assist him to procure another situation, he would accept his proffered aid, otherwise he would try to earn his own living.Two days later he received a letter, which he at once perceived to be in his step-father's handwriting. He tore it open eagerly and began to read. His lip curled with scorn before he had read far.These were the material portions of the letter:The same mail brought me letters from you andMr.Bond. I need not say how grieved I am to hear that you have subjected yourself to a criminal charge. The circumstances leave no doubt of your guilt. Unhappy boy! how, with the liberal allowance you received, could you stoop to so mean, so dishonorable a theft? My nephew writes me that with brazen effrontery you denied your guilt, though it was self-evident, and treated his remonstrances with the most outrageous insolence. It is well, indeed, that your poor mother did not live to see this day."How dare he refer to my mother!" exclaimed Oliver indignantly, when he came to this passage.He went on with the letter:I didn't expect that my well-meant and earnest effort to start you on a business career would terminate in this way. I confess I am puzzled to know what to do with you. I cannot take you home, for I do not wish Roland corrupted by your example.Here Oliver's lip curled again with scorn.Nor can I recommend you to another place. Knowing you to be dishonest, I should feel that I was doing wrong to give you a good character. I will not tell your old acquaintances here of your sad wickedness. I have too much consideration for you. I have only told Roland, hoping that it may be a warning to him, though I am thankful that he at least is incapable of theft.After anxious consideration, I have decided that you have forfeited all claim to any further help from me. I cast you off, and shall leave you henceforth to shift for yourself. You cannot justly complain, for you must be sensible that you have brought this upon yourself. I intended, sooner or later, to buy an interest for you in my nephew's business,—that is, if you behaved properly,—but all this is at an end now. I enclose twenty dollars to help you along until you can get something to do. I advise you to enlist on some ship as cabin-boy. There you will be out of reach of temptation, and may, in time, lead a useful, though humble career.I need not say with how much grief I write these words. It pains me to cast you off, but I cannot own any connection with a thief. Roland is also grieved by the news. Hoping that you may live to see the error of your ways, I subscribe myself,Benjamin Kenyon.Oliver read this letter with indignation and amazement.Was it possible thatMr.Kenyon, while inthe possession of a large property left him by his mother, could thus coolly cast him off, and leave him to support himself?He wrote the following reply:Mr.Kenyon:I have received your harsh and unjust letter. I am innocent, and you know it. Of the large property which my mother left, you send me twenty dollars, and keep the remainder. I shall keep and use the money, for it is justly mine. Sometime you will repent defrauding an orphan. I don't think I shall starve, but I shall not soon forget your treachery. Some day—I don't know when—I will punish you for it.Oliver Conrad.

WITHOUT much hope of obtaining sympathy or credence, Oliver wrote to his step-father an account of the charge whichMr.Bond had brought against him, and denied in the most positive terms its truth.

"There," he said to himself as he posted the letter, "that is all I can do.Mr.Kenyon must now decide which he will believe."

Until he should hear from his step-father he decided not to form any plans for the future. One thing he was decided upon, not to return home. Since his mother's death (for he supposed her dead) it was no home for him. He had been in the city long enough to become fond of city life, and he meant to remain there. IfMr.Kenyon chose to assist him to procure another situation, he would accept his proffered aid, otherwise he would try to earn his own living.

Two days later he received a letter, which he at once perceived to be in his step-father's handwriting. He tore it open eagerly and began to read. His lip curled with scorn before he had read far.

These were the material portions of the letter:

The same mail brought me letters from you andMr.Bond. I need not say how grieved I am to hear that you have subjected yourself to a criminal charge. The circumstances leave no doubt of your guilt. Unhappy boy! how, with the liberal allowance you received, could you stoop to so mean, so dishonorable a theft? My nephew writes me that with brazen effrontery you denied your guilt, though it was self-evident, and treated his remonstrances with the most outrageous insolence. It is well, indeed, that your poor mother did not live to see this day.

"How dare he refer to my mother!" exclaimed Oliver indignantly, when he came to this passage.

He went on with the letter:

I didn't expect that my well-meant and earnest effort to start you on a business career would terminate in this way. I confess I am puzzled to know what to do with you. I cannot take you home, for I do not wish Roland corrupted by your example.

Here Oliver's lip curled again with scorn.

Nor can I recommend you to another place. Knowing you to be dishonest, I should feel that I was doing wrong to give you a good character. I will not tell your old acquaintances here of your sad wickedness. I have too much consideration for you. I have only told Roland, hoping that it may be a warning to him, though I am thankful that he at least is incapable of theft.After anxious consideration, I have decided that you have forfeited all claim to any further help from me. I cast you off, and shall leave you henceforth to shift for yourself. You cannot justly complain, for you must be sensible that you have brought this upon yourself. I intended, sooner or later, to buy an interest for you in my nephew's business,—that is, if you behaved properly,—but all this is at an end now. I enclose twenty dollars to help you along until you can get something to do. I advise you to enlist on some ship as cabin-boy. There you will be out of reach of temptation, and may, in time, lead a useful, though humble career.I need not say with how much grief I write these words. It pains me to cast you off, but I cannot own any connection with a thief. Roland is also grieved by the news. Hoping that you may live to see the error of your ways, I subscribe myself,Benjamin Kenyon.

Nor can I recommend you to another place. Knowing you to be dishonest, I should feel that I was doing wrong to give you a good character. I will not tell your old acquaintances here of your sad wickedness. I have too much consideration for you. I have only told Roland, hoping that it may be a warning to him, though I am thankful that he at least is incapable of theft.

After anxious consideration, I have decided that you have forfeited all claim to any further help from me. I cast you off, and shall leave you henceforth to shift for yourself. You cannot justly complain, for you must be sensible that you have brought this upon yourself. I intended, sooner or later, to buy an interest for you in my nephew's business,—that is, if you behaved properly,—but all this is at an end now. I enclose twenty dollars to help you along until you can get something to do. I advise you to enlist on some ship as cabin-boy. There you will be out of reach of temptation, and may, in time, lead a useful, though humble career.

I need not say with how much grief I write these words. It pains me to cast you off, but I cannot own any connection with a thief. Roland is also grieved by the news. Hoping that you may live to see the error of your ways, I subscribe myself,

Benjamin Kenyon.

Oliver read this letter with indignation and amazement.

Was it possible thatMr.Kenyon, while inthe possession of a large property left him by his mother, could thus coolly cast him off, and leave him to support himself?

He wrote the following reply:

Mr.Kenyon:I have received your harsh and unjust letter. I am innocent, and you know it. Of the large property which my mother left, you send me twenty dollars, and keep the remainder. I shall keep and use the money, for it is justly mine. Sometime you will repent defrauding an orphan. I don't think I shall starve, but I shall not soon forget your treachery. Some day—I don't know when—I will punish you for it.Oliver Conrad.

Mr.Kenyon:

I have received your harsh and unjust letter. I am innocent, and you know it. Of the large property which my mother left, you send me twenty dollars, and keep the remainder. I shall keep and use the money, for it is justly mine. Sometime you will repent defrauding an orphan. I don't think I shall starve, but I shall not soon forget your treachery. Some day—I don't know when—I will punish you for it.

Oliver Conrad.

CHAPTERXIX.A STRANGE ACQUAINTANCE.MR. KENYON shrugged his shoulders, and smiled, when he read Oliver's letter."So the young cub is showing his claws, is he?" he said to himself. "I fancy he will find it harder to punish me than he supposes. Where will he get the power? Money is power, and I have the money." "Yes," he continued, his sallow face lighting up with exultation, "I have played boldly for it, and it is mine! Who shall dispute my claim? My wife is in a mad-house, and likely to remain there, and now Oliver is disposed of. I wish he would go to sea, and never be heard of again. But at any rate I am pretty safe so far as he is concerned."Oliver did not expect to terrifyMr.Kenyon with his threats. He, too, felt hispresent want of power; but he was young, and he could wait. Indeed, the question of punishing his step-father was not the one that first demanded his attention. He had but twenty dollars in the world, and no expectations. He must find work of some kind, and that soon. Now, unluckily for Oliver, the times were hard. There were thousands out of employment, and fifty applications where there was one vacancy. Day after day he answered advertisements without effect. Only once he had a favorable answer. This was in a great dry-goods house."Yes," said the superintendent, who was pleased with his appearance and manners, "we will take you, if you like to come."Oliver brightened up. His sky seemed to be clearing."Perhaps you will object to the pay we give," said the superintendent."I don't expect much," said our hero, who thought he would accept for the present, if he were only offered six dollars."We will pay you two dollars a week for the first six months.""Two dollars a week!" exclaimed Oliver in dismay."For the first six months. Then we will raise you to four if you do well.""Then I can't come," said Oliver despondently. "I shall have to live on my salary, and I couldn't possibly live on two dollars a week.""I am sorry," said the superintendent; "but as we can get plenty of boys for two dollars, we cannot break our rule."Oliver went out, rather indignant."No wonder boys are tempted to steal," he thought, "when employers are so mean."It was getting rather serious for him. His money had been dwindling daily."John," he said to his room-mate one evening, "I must give up this room at the end of the week.""Are you out of funds?""I have but fifty cents left in the world.""I can't keep the room alone. When is our week up?""To-morrow evening.""I will take my old room. I know it is still vacant. What will you do?""I don't know. I haven't money enough to take any room.""I wish I had some money to lend you; I'd do it in a minute," said John heartily."I know you would, John, but you have hard work scraping along yourself.""I'll tell you what I can do. Come to my little room, and we'll take turns sleeping in the bed. It is only eighteen inches wide, or we could both occupy it at a time.""I'll come round and sleep on the floor, John. I won't deprive you of your bed. I wish I knew what to do.""PerhapsMr.Bond would take you back.""No, he wouldn't. I am convinced that there was a conspiracy to get rid of me. I might try my hand at selling papers.""You are too much of a gentleman to go into the street with the ragged street boys.""My gentility won't supply me with board and lodging. I mustn't think of that.""Something may turn up for you to-morrow, Oliver.""It won't do to depend on that. If I canturn up something, that will be more to the purpose. However, this is our last night in this room, and I won't worry myself into a sleepless night. I will get my money's worth out of the bed."Oliver was not given to dismal forebodings or to anticipating trouble, though he certainly might have been excused for feeling depressed under present circumstances. He slept soundly, and went out in the morning, active and alert.He took a cheap breakfast—a cup of coffee and some tea-biscuit—for ten cents. He rose from the table with an appetite, but he didn't dare to spend more money. As it was, he had but forty cents left.About one o'clock, after applying at several stores for employment, but ineffectually, he found himself standing at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fourteenth Street.A tall gentleman, with a dignified air, probably seventy years of age, accosted him as he stood there."My young friend," he said, "will you dine with me?"Oliver looked at him in astonishment to see if he was in earnest."I do not wish to dine alone," said the other. "Be my guest unless you have dined.""No, sir, I have not dined; but I am a stranger to you.""Very true; we shall get acquainted before dinner is over.""Then I will accept your invitation with pleasure, sir. It is the more acceptable because I am out of a situation and have very little money.""You are well dressed.""Very true, sir. My dress is deceptive, however.""All that is irrelevant. Come, if you please."So Oliver followed his new acquaintance to Delmonico's restaurant. They selected a small table, and a waiter approached to receive orders."I hope you are hungry," said the old gentleman. "Pray do justice to my invitation."Oliver smiled."I can easily do that, sir," he said. "I made but a light breakfast.""So much the better. What kind of soup will you have?"Oliver selected turtle soup, which was speedily brought.It is unnecessary to enter into an elaborate description of the dinner. It is enough that Oliver redeemed his promise, and ate heartily; his new acquaintance regarding him with approval."Will you have some wine?" he asked."No, sir," replied Oliver."You had better try some champagne.""No, thank you.""At least you will take some coffee?""Thank you, sir."The coffee was brought, and at length the dinner was over."Thank you, sir," said Oliver, preparing to leave his hospitable entertainer. "You have been very kind. I will bid you good-day.""No, no, come home with me. I want to have a talk with you."Oliver reflected that his new acquaintance,who had been so mysteriously kind, might be disposed to furnish him with some employment, and thought it best to accept the invitation, especially as his time was of little value.Twenty minutes' walk brought them to the door of a fine brown-stone house on a street leading out of Fifth Avenue.The old gentleman took out a latch-key, opened the front door, and signed to Oliver to follow him upstairs. He paused before a front room on the third floor. Both entered. The room was in part an ordinary bed-chamber, but not wholly. In one corner was a rosewood case containing a number of steel instruments.The old gentleman's face lighted up with strange triumph, and he locked the door.Oliver thought it singular, but suspected no harm."Now, my young friend," said the old man, "I will tell you why I brought you here.""If you please, sir.""I am a physician, and am in search of a hidden principle of nature, which I am satisfied can only be arrived at by vivisection.""By what, sir?" exclaimed Oliver, whom the feverish, excited air of the old man began to startle."I propose to cut you up," said the old man composedly, selecting an ugly looking instrument, "and watch carefully the——""Are you mad, sir?" exclaimed Oliver, aghast. "Do you wish to murder me?""You will die in behalf of science," said the old doctor calmly. "Your death, through my observations, will be a blessing to the race. Be good enough to take off your coat."Oliver was horror-struck. The door was locked, and the old man stood between him and escape. It was evident that he was in the power of a maniac."Is my life to end thus?" he asked himself, in affright.

MR. KENYON shrugged his shoulders, and smiled, when he read Oliver's letter.

"So the young cub is showing his claws, is he?" he said to himself. "I fancy he will find it harder to punish me than he supposes. Where will he get the power? Money is power, and I have the money." "Yes," he continued, his sallow face lighting up with exultation, "I have played boldly for it, and it is mine! Who shall dispute my claim? My wife is in a mad-house, and likely to remain there, and now Oliver is disposed of. I wish he would go to sea, and never be heard of again. But at any rate I am pretty safe so far as he is concerned."

Oliver did not expect to terrifyMr.Kenyon with his threats. He, too, felt hispresent want of power; but he was young, and he could wait. Indeed, the question of punishing his step-father was not the one that first demanded his attention. He had but twenty dollars in the world, and no expectations. He must find work of some kind, and that soon. Now, unluckily for Oliver, the times were hard. There were thousands out of employment, and fifty applications where there was one vacancy. Day after day he answered advertisements without effect. Only once he had a favorable answer. This was in a great dry-goods house.

"Yes," said the superintendent, who was pleased with his appearance and manners, "we will take you, if you like to come."

Oliver brightened up. His sky seemed to be clearing.

"Perhaps you will object to the pay we give," said the superintendent.

"I don't expect much," said our hero, who thought he would accept for the present, if he were only offered six dollars.

"We will pay you two dollars a week for the first six months."

"Two dollars a week!" exclaimed Oliver in dismay.

"For the first six months. Then we will raise you to four if you do well."

"Then I can't come," said Oliver despondently. "I shall have to live on my salary, and I couldn't possibly live on two dollars a week."

"I am sorry," said the superintendent; "but as we can get plenty of boys for two dollars, we cannot break our rule."

Oliver went out, rather indignant.

"No wonder boys are tempted to steal," he thought, "when employers are so mean."

It was getting rather serious for him. His money had been dwindling daily.

"John," he said to his room-mate one evening, "I must give up this room at the end of the week."

"Are you out of funds?"

"I have but fifty cents left in the world."

"I can't keep the room alone. When is our week up?"

"To-morrow evening."

"I will take my old room. I know it is still vacant. What will you do?"

"I don't know. I haven't money enough to take any room."

"I wish I had some money to lend you; I'd do it in a minute," said John heartily.

"I know you would, John, but you have hard work scraping along yourself."

"I'll tell you what I can do. Come to my little room, and we'll take turns sleeping in the bed. It is only eighteen inches wide, or we could both occupy it at a time."

"I'll come round and sleep on the floor, John. I won't deprive you of your bed. I wish I knew what to do."

"PerhapsMr.Bond would take you back."

"No, he wouldn't. I am convinced that there was a conspiracy to get rid of me. I might try my hand at selling papers."

"You are too much of a gentleman to go into the street with the ragged street boys."

"My gentility won't supply me with board and lodging. I mustn't think of that."

"Something may turn up for you to-morrow, Oliver."

"It won't do to depend on that. If I canturn up something, that will be more to the purpose. However, this is our last night in this room, and I won't worry myself into a sleepless night. I will get my money's worth out of the bed."

Oliver was not given to dismal forebodings or to anticipating trouble, though he certainly might have been excused for feeling depressed under present circumstances. He slept soundly, and went out in the morning, active and alert.

He took a cheap breakfast—a cup of coffee and some tea-biscuit—for ten cents. He rose from the table with an appetite, but he didn't dare to spend more money. As it was, he had but forty cents left.

About one o'clock, after applying at several stores for employment, but ineffectually, he found himself standing at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fourteenth Street.

A tall gentleman, with a dignified air, probably seventy years of age, accosted him as he stood there.

"My young friend," he said, "will you dine with me?"

Oliver looked at him in astonishment to see if he was in earnest.

"I do not wish to dine alone," said the other. "Be my guest unless you have dined."

"No, sir, I have not dined; but I am a stranger to you."

"Very true; we shall get acquainted before dinner is over."

"Then I will accept your invitation with pleasure, sir. It is the more acceptable because I am out of a situation and have very little money."

"You are well dressed."

"Very true, sir. My dress is deceptive, however."

"All that is irrelevant. Come, if you please."

So Oliver followed his new acquaintance to Delmonico's restaurant. They selected a small table, and a waiter approached to receive orders.

"I hope you are hungry," said the old gentleman. "Pray do justice to my invitation."

Oliver smiled.

"I can easily do that, sir," he said. "I made but a light breakfast."

"So much the better. What kind of soup will you have?"

Oliver selected turtle soup, which was speedily brought.

It is unnecessary to enter into an elaborate description of the dinner. It is enough that Oliver redeemed his promise, and ate heartily; his new acquaintance regarding him with approval.

"Will you have some wine?" he asked.

"No, sir," replied Oliver.

"You had better try some champagne."

"No, thank you."

"At least you will take some coffee?"

"Thank you, sir."

The coffee was brought, and at length the dinner was over.

"Thank you, sir," said Oliver, preparing to leave his hospitable entertainer. "You have been very kind. I will bid you good-day."

"No, no, come home with me. I want to have a talk with you."

Oliver reflected that his new acquaintance,who had been so mysteriously kind, might be disposed to furnish him with some employment, and thought it best to accept the invitation, especially as his time was of little value.

Twenty minutes' walk brought them to the door of a fine brown-stone house on a street leading out of Fifth Avenue.

The old gentleman took out a latch-key, opened the front door, and signed to Oliver to follow him upstairs. He paused before a front room on the third floor. Both entered. The room was in part an ordinary bed-chamber, but not wholly. In one corner was a rosewood case containing a number of steel instruments.

The old gentleman's face lighted up with strange triumph, and he locked the door.

Oliver thought it singular, but suspected no harm.

"Now, my young friend," said the old man, "I will tell you why I brought you here."

"If you please, sir."

"I am a physician, and am in search of a hidden principle of nature, which I am satisfied can only be arrived at by vivisection."

"By what, sir?" exclaimed Oliver, whom the feverish, excited air of the old man began to startle.

"I propose to cut you up," said the old man composedly, selecting an ugly looking instrument, "and watch carefully the——"

"Are you mad, sir?" exclaimed Oliver, aghast. "Do you wish to murder me?"

"You will die in behalf of science," said the old doctor calmly. "Your death, through my observations, will be a blessing to the race. Be good enough to take off your coat."

Oliver was horror-struck. The door was locked, and the old man stood between him and escape. It was evident that he was in the power of a maniac.

"Is my life to end thus?" he asked himself, in affright.

CHAPTERXX.A TERRIBLE SITUATION."BE good enough to remove your coat," said the old man with a politeness hardly consistent with his fearful purpose."Sir," said Oliver, hoping that he might be accessible to reason, "you have no right to experiment upon me without my permission.""I should prefer your permission," said the old doctor."I can't give it," said Oliver hastily."My young friend," said the old man, with an air of superior wisdom, "you do not appreciate the important part you are invited to take in the progress of scientific discovery. You will lose your life, to be sure, but what is a single life to the discovery of a great truth! Your name will live for ages in connection with the great principle which I shall have the honor of discovering.""I would rather live myself," said Oliverbluntly. "Science may be all very well, but I prefer that somebody else should have the privilege of dying to promote it.""They all say so," said the old man musingly. "No one has the noble courage to sacrifice himself for the truth.""I shouldn't think they would," retorted Oliver. "Why don't you experiment on yourself?""I would willingly, but there are two impediments. I cannot at once be operator and subject. Besides, I am too old. My natural force is abated, while you are young, strong, and vigorous. Oh, yes," and he looked gloatingly at our hero, "you will be a capital subject.""Look here," said Oliver desperately, "I tell you I won't be a subject.""Then I must proceed without your permission," said the old doctor calmly. "I have already waited too long. I cannot let this opportunity slip.""If you kill me you will be hanged!" exclaimed Oliver, the perspiration starting from every pore."I will submit cheerfully to an ignominiousdeath, if time is only given me to complete and announce my discovery," said the old man composedly.Evidently he was in earnest. Poor Oliver did not know what to do. He determined, however, to keep the old man in conversation as long as possible, hoping that help might yet arrive, and the struggle—for he meant to fight for his life—be avoided."Did you have this in view when you invited me to dine with you?" he asked."Surely I did.""Why did you select me rather than someone else?""Because you are so young and vigorous. You are in the full flush of health."Now this is a very pleasant assurance in ordinary cases, but under the circumstances Oliver did not enjoy the compliment. A thought struck him."You are mistaken," he said. "I am not as well as I look. I have—heart disease.""I can hardly believe it," said the old man. "Heart disease does not go with such a physique.""I've got it," said Oliver. "If you want a perfectly healthy subject, you must apply to someone else.""I will test it," said the old man, approaching. "If you really are subject to disease of the heart, you will not answer my purpose.""Put down that knife, then," said Oliver.The doctor put it down. Oliver shuddered while the relentless devotee of science placed his hand over his heart, and waited anxiously his decision.It came."You are mistaken, my young friend," he said. "The movement of your heart is slightly accelerated, but it is in a perfectly healthy state.""I don't believe you can tell," said Oliver desperately, "just by holding your hand over it a minute.""Science is unerring, my young friend," said the old man calmly. "But we waste time. Take off your coat and prepare yourself for the operation."The crisis had come, the old man approached with his dangerous weapon. Atthis supreme moment Oliver espied a bell-knob. He sprang to it, and rang a peal that echoed through the house, and was distinctly heard even in the chamber where they were standing."What did you do that for?" demanded the old man angrily."I am not going to stay here to be murdered!" exclaimed Oliver. "I give you warning that I will resist you with all my strength.""You would foil me, would you?" exclaimed the maniac, now thoroughly excited. "It must not be."Oliver hurriedly put a chair between himself and the old man.At that moment steps were heard on the staircase, and someone tried the door."Help!" shouted Oliver, encouraged by what he heard."What is the matter?" demanded a voice outside. "Father, what are you doing?"The old man looked disgusted and mortified."Go away!" he said querulously."Who is there with you?""No one.""It's a lie!" said Oliver, in a loud voice. "I am a boy who has been lured in here by this old man, who wants to murder me.""Open the door at once, father," said the voice outside sternly.The old man was apparently overawed and afraid to refuse. He advanced sullenly and turned the key. The door was at once opened from outside.A man in middle life entered. He took in the situation at a glance."You are at your tricks again, sir," he said sternly to the old man. "Put down that knife."The old man obeyed."Don't be harsh, Samuel," he said, in an apologetic tone. "You know that I am working in the interests of science.""Don't try to impose on me with such nonsense. What were you going to do with that boy?""I wished to experiment upon him.""You were going to murder him, and thelaw would have exacted the penalty had I not interfered.""I would have submitted, if I could have only demonstrated the great principle which——""The great humbug! Promise me that you will never again attempt any such folly, or I shall be compelled to send you back to the hospital.""Don't send me there, Samuel!" said the old man, shuddering."Then take care you do not make it necessary. Young man, come with me."It may be imagined that Oliver gladly accepted the invitation.He followed his guide downstairs, and into the parlor, which was very handsomely furnished."What is your name?" enquired the other."Oliver Conrad.""How came you with my father?"Oliver told the story briefly."I am very much mortified at the imposition that has been practised upon you, and alarmed at the thought of what might havehappened but for my accidental presence at home. Of course you can see for yourself that my father is insane.""Yes, sir, I can see it now; but I did not suspect it when we first met.""I suppose not. In fact, he is not generally insane. He is rather a monomaniac.""It seems a dangerous kind of monomania.""You are right; it is. Unless I can control him at home, I must send him back to the hospital. He has been an eminent physician, and until two years ago was in active practice. His delusion is connected with his profession, and is therefore less likely to be cured. I am surprised that you accepted a stranger's invitation to dine.""I will tell you frankly, sir," said Oliver, "that I am out of employment, and have but forty cents in the world. You could hardly expect me to decline a dinner at Delmonico's under the circumstances.""To be sure," said the other thoughtfully. "Wait here one minute, please."He left the room, but returned in less thanfive minutes. He handed a sealed envelope to Oliver."I owe you some reparation for the danger to which you have been exposed. Accept the enclosure, and do me the favor not to mention the events of to-day."Oliver thanked him and made the promise requested.When he was in the street he opened the envelope. To his amazement, it proved to contain one hundred dollars in bills!"Shall I take this!" he asked himself.Necessity answered for him."It is a strange way of earning money," he thought. "I shouldn't like to go through it again. On the whole, however, this is a lucky day. I have had a dinner at Delmonico's, and I have money enough to last me ten weeks at least."

"BE good enough to remove your coat," said the old man with a politeness hardly consistent with his fearful purpose.

"Sir," said Oliver, hoping that he might be accessible to reason, "you have no right to experiment upon me without my permission."

"I should prefer your permission," said the old doctor.

"I can't give it," said Oliver hastily.

"My young friend," said the old man, with an air of superior wisdom, "you do not appreciate the important part you are invited to take in the progress of scientific discovery. You will lose your life, to be sure, but what is a single life to the discovery of a great truth! Your name will live for ages in connection with the great principle which I shall have the honor of discovering."

"I would rather live myself," said Oliverbluntly. "Science may be all very well, but I prefer that somebody else should have the privilege of dying to promote it."

"They all say so," said the old man musingly. "No one has the noble courage to sacrifice himself for the truth."

"I shouldn't think they would," retorted Oliver. "Why don't you experiment on yourself?"

"I would willingly, but there are two impediments. I cannot at once be operator and subject. Besides, I am too old. My natural force is abated, while you are young, strong, and vigorous. Oh, yes," and he looked gloatingly at our hero, "you will be a capital subject."

"Look here," said Oliver desperately, "I tell you I won't be a subject."

"Then I must proceed without your permission," said the old doctor calmly. "I have already waited too long. I cannot let this opportunity slip."

"If you kill me you will be hanged!" exclaimed Oliver, the perspiration starting from every pore.

"I will submit cheerfully to an ignominiousdeath, if time is only given me to complete and announce my discovery," said the old man composedly.

Evidently he was in earnest. Poor Oliver did not know what to do. He determined, however, to keep the old man in conversation as long as possible, hoping that help might yet arrive, and the struggle—for he meant to fight for his life—be avoided.

"Did you have this in view when you invited me to dine with you?" he asked.

"Surely I did."

"Why did you select me rather than someone else?"

"Because you are so young and vigorous. You are in the full flush of health."

Now this is a very pleasant assurance in ordinary cases, but under the circumstances Oliver did not enjoy the compliment. A thought struck him.

"You are mistaken," he said. "I am not as well as I look. I have—heart disease."

"I can hardly believe it," said the old man. "Heart disease does not go with such a physique."

"I've got it," said Oliver. "If you want a perfectly healthy subject, you must apply to someone else."

"I will test it," said the old man, approaching. "If you really are subject to disease of the heart, you will not answer my purpose."

"Put down that knife, then," said Oliver.

The doctor put it down. Oliver shuddered while the relentless devotee of science placed his hand over his heart, and waited anxiously his decision.

It came.

"You are mistaken, my young friend," he said. "The movement of your heart is slightly accelerated, but it is in a perfectly healthy state."

"I don't believe you can tell," said Oliver desperately, "just by holding your hand over it a minute."

"Science is unerring, my young friend," said the old man calmly. "But we waste time. Take off your coat and prepare yourself for the operation."

The crisis had come, the old man approached with his dangerous weapon. Atthis supreme moment Oliver espied a bell-knob. He sprang to it, and rang a peal that echoed through the house, and was distinctly heard even in the chamber where they were standing.

"What did you do that for?" demanded the old man angrily.

"I am not going to stay here to be murdered!" exclaimed Oliver. "I give you warning that I will resist you with all my strength."

"You would foil me, would you?" exclaimed the maniac, now thoroughly excited. "It must not be."

Oliver hurriedly put a chair between himself and the old man.

At that moment steps were heard on the staircase, and someone tried the door.

"Help!" shouted Oliver, encouraged by what he heard.

"What is the matter?" demanded a voice outside. "Father, what are you doing?"

The old man looked disgusted and mortified.

"Go away!" he said querulously.

"Who is there with you?"

"No one."

"It's a lie!" said Oliver, in a loud voice. "I am a boy who has been lured in here by this old man, who wants to murder me."

"Open the door at once, father," said the voice outside sternly.

The old man was apparently overawed and afraid to refuse. He advanced sullenly and turned the key. The door was at once opened from outside.

A man in middle life entered. He took in the situation at a glance.

"You are at your tricks again, sir," he said sternly to the old man. "Put down that knife."

The old man obeyed.

"Don't be harsh, Samuel," he said, in an apologetic tone. "You know that I am working in the interests of science."

"Don't try to impose on me with such nonsense. What were you going to do with that boy?"

"I wished to experiment upon him."

"You were going to murder him, and thelaw would have exacted the penalty had I not interfered."

"I would have submitted, if I could have only demonstrated the great principle which——"

"The great humbug! Promise me that you will never again attempt any such folly, or I shall be compelled to send you back to the hospital."

"Don't send me there, Samuel!" said the old man, shuddering.

"Then take care you do not make it necessary. Young man, come with me."

It may be imagined that Oliver gladly accepted the invitation.

He followed his guide downstairs, and into the parlor, which was very handsomely furnished.

"What is your name?" enquired the other.

"Oliver Conrad."

"How came you with my father?"

Oliver told the story briefly.

"I am very much mortified at the imposition that has been practised upon you, and alarmed at the thought of what might havehappened but for my accidental presence at home. Of course you can see for yourself that my father is insane."

"Yes, sir, I can see it now; but I did not suspect it when we first met."

"I suppose not. In fact, he is not generally insane. He is rather a monomaniac."

"It seems a dangerous kind of monomania."

"You are right; it is. Unless I can control him at home, I must send him back to the hospital. He has been an eminent physician, and until two years ago was in active practice. His delusion is connected with his profession, and is therefore less likely to be cured. I am surprised that you accepted a stranger's invitation to dine."

"I will tell you frankly, sir," said Oliver, "that I am out of employment, and have but forty cents in the world. You could hardly expect me to decline a dinner at Delmonico's under the circumstances."

"To be sure," said the other thoughtfully. "Wait here one minute, please."

He left the room, but returned in less thanfive minutes. He handed a sealed envelope to Oliver.

"I owe you some reparation for the danger to which you have been exposed. Accept the enclosure, and do me the favor not to mention the events of to-day."

Oliver thanked him and made the promise requested.

When he was in the street he opened the envelope. To his amazement, it proved to contain one hundred dollars in bills!

"Shall I take this!" he asked himself.

Necessity answered for him.

"It is a strange way of earning money," he thought. "I shouldn't like to go through it again. On the whole, however, this is a lucky day. I have had a dinner at Delmonico's, and I have money enough to last me ten weeks at least."

CHAPTERXXI.ROLAND IS SURPRISED.OLIVER was walking along Broadway in very good spirits, as he well might, after such an extraordinary piece of good fortune, when all at once he became sensible that his step-brother, Roland, was approaching him.His first impulse was to avoid the meeting by crossing the street; but, after all, why should he avoid Roland? He had done nothing to be ashamed of. Certainly, Roland was not his friend, but he had been his companion so long that there was something homelike in his face.Roland recognized him at the instant of meeting."Oliver!" he exclaimed in surprise."How are you, Roland?" said Oliver composedly.Roland colored and looked embarrassed."Are you still in the city?" he asked."You see I am.""My father told me you were going to sea.""He advised me to go to sea, but I have not followed his advice.""I should think you would.""Why should you think I would? Do you think of going to sea?""Of course not.""Then why should I?""It must be rather awkward for you to stay in New York. Are you not afraid of being arrested?""Arrested!" repeated Oliver haughtily. "What do you mean?""You know well enough what I mean. On account of the money you stole from my cousin.""Say that again and I will knock you over!""You wouldn't dare to—in the public street!" said Roland, startled."Don't depend on that. If you insult me, I will.""I was only repeating what my father told me.""Your father chose to tell you a lie," said Oliver contemptuously."Didn't you lose your place? Tell me that.""I did lose my place, or rather left it of my own accord.""Wasn't there a reason for it?" insisted Roland triumphantly."There was a charge trumped up against me," said Oliver—"a false charge. Probably your father and your cousin were at the bottom of it. But that isn't what I care to talk about. Is there anything new in Brentville?""Carrie Dudley is very well," said Roland significantly."I am glad to hear it.""I called there last evening. I had a splendid time," said Roland.If Roland expected to excite Oliver's jealousy, he was not likely to succeed. Our hero knew too well Carrie Dudley's real opinion of his step-brother to feel the least fear on the subject."I should like to see Frank and Carrie," said Oliver quietly. "They are the only persons I regret in Brentville.""No love lost between us," returned Roland at once, applying the remark to himself."Probably not," said Oliver, with a smile."Have you got another place?" enquired Roland curiously."Not yet.""I suppose you will find it hard, as you can't bring any recommendation.""I wouldn't accept one fromMr.Bond," said Oliver haughtily."How do you get along then?""Pretty well, thank you.""I mean, how do you pay your expenses?" persisted Roland. "You have no income, you know.""I ought to have," blazed out Oliver indignantly. "My mother left a hundred thousand dollars, which you and your father have coolly appropriated.""My father has no money that is not his own," retorted Roland, "and that is more than——""Stop there, Roland, or I may forget myself," interrupted Oliver sternly.There was a menace in his tone which startled Roland, and he thought it best not to complete his sentence."I must be going," said Roland. "Have you dined?"He asked the question chiefly out of curiosity."I dined at Delmonico's," replied Oliver, in a matter-of-fact tone, enjoying Roland's amazement."You did!" exclaimed Roland, well aware how expensive Delmonico's famous restaurant is."Yes; I had a capital dinner.""I don't believe it. You are joking," said Roland incredulously."What makes you say that?""You can't afford to dine at such a place, a boy in your position. I don't believe you have five dollars in the world."Now was the time for Oliver to confound his incredulous enemy.He took out the roll of bills he had recentlyreceived and displayed it to Roland, letting him see five, ten, and twenty-dollar bills."I am not quite reduced to beggary, as you see," he said."How did you get all that money?" gasped Roland."I don't choose to tell you. I will only say this, that I have made more money since I leftMr.Bond's than I made while I was in his employment—three times over.""You have?" ejaculated Roland, who was beginning to feel some respect for the boy who could make so much money, even though he disliked him. "I thought you hadn't got a place," he said, after a moment's thought."No more I have," replied Oliver. "I am my own employer.""In business for yourself, hey?"Oliver nodded."Well, good-morning. I'll tell Frank Dudley I have seen you.""I wish you would."He looked after Oliver, as he walked away, with the same feeling of wonder."How can a boy earn so much money?" he thought. "Oliver must be smart. I thought he'd be a beggar by this time."In his secret heart Roland had never credited the charge of theft brought against Oliver. He didn't like him, and was ready enough to join in the charge of dishonesty fabricated by his father andMr.Bond, but really he knew Oliver too well to believe it. Otherwise he might have suspected that Oliver's supply of money was dishonestly obtained. He concluded that his step-brother must be doing some business of a very profitable character.With a hundred dollars in his pocket, Oliver felt justified in re-engaging the room he had in the morning resolved to leave. He managed to see John Meadows at the time of his leaving the store, and enquired if he had yet hired his old room."No," said John, "I am just going round there. Will you go with me?""It won't be necessary," said Oliver. "We had better remain where we are."John stared."But how will we pay the rent?" he asked. "You have nothing.""Haven't I? I made a hundred dollars to-day."John whistled."Come, now, you're gassin'," he said."Does that look like gassing?" said Oliver, displaying a roll of bills."Good gracious! where did you get it!"Oliver smiled."I thought you would be surprised," he answered. "I'll tell you the story when we get home," he said. "Now let us go and tell our landlady we have changed our minds and will keep the room.""I'm glad we can," said John Meadows. "I felt bad about going back to my old room, and I felt anxious about you, too.""I think I shall get along," said Oliver hopefully."Perhaps there is more money to be made where you made your money to-day.""I think not. At any rate, I don't care to earn any more the same way."The same evening Oliver strayed into aprominent hotel on Broadway. He was alone, his room-mate having retired early on account of fatigue. In the smoking-room he saw, sitting by himself, a tall, bronzed, rather roughly dressed man, evidently not a dweller in cities, but having all the outward marks of a frontiersman. Something in Oliver attracted this man's attention, and led him to address our hero."Young man," he said, "do you live in New York?""Yes, sir.""Then, perhaps you can recommend me to a quiet house where I can obtain a lodging. I aint used to fine hotels; they don't suit me.""I can recommend the house where I am living," said Oliver. "It is quiet and comfortable, but not stylish.""Style aint for me," said the stranger. "If it's where you live, I'll like it better. I like your looks and would like to get acquainted with you.""Then," said Oliver, "I'll call here to-morrow morning and accompany you to thehouse. It would be too late to-night to make a change.""That will do," said the stranger. "I will be here at nine o'clock. If you don't see me enquire for Nicholas Bundy."

OLIVER was walking along Broadway in very good spirits, as he well might, after such an extraordinary piece of good fortune, when all at once he became sensible that his step-brother, Roland, was approaching him.

His first impulse was to avoid the meeting by crossing the street; but, after all, why should he avoid Roland? He had done nothing to be ashamed of. Certainly, Roland was not his friend, but he had been his companion so long that there was something homelike in his face.

Roland recognized him at the instant of meeting.

"Oliver!" he exclaimed in surprise.

"How are you, Roland?" said Oliver composedly.

Roland colored and looked embarrassed.

"Are you still in the city?" he asked.

"You see I am."

"My father told me you were going to sea."

"He advised me to go to sea, but I have not followed his advice."

"I should think you would."

"Why should you think I would? Do you think of going to sea?"

"Of course not."

"Then why should I?"

"It must be rather awkward for you to stay in New York. Are you not afraid of being arrested?"

"Arrested!" repeated Oliver haughtily. "What do you mean?"

"You know well enough what I mean. On account of the money you stole from my cousin."

"Say that again and I will knock you over!"

"You wouldn't dare to—in the public street!" said Roland, startled.

"Don't depend on that. If you insult me, I will."

"I was only repeating what my father told me."

"Your father chose to tell you a lie," said Oliver contemptuously.

"Didn't you lose your place? Tell me that."

"I did lose my place, or rather left it of my own accord."

"Wasn't there a reason for it?" insisted Roland triumphantly.

"There was a charge trumped up against me," said Oliver—"a false charge. Probably your father and your cousin were at the bottom of it. But that isn't what I care to talk about. Is there anything new in Brentville?"

"Carrie Dudley is very well," said Roland significantly.

"I am glad to hear it."

"I called there last evening. I had a splendid time," said Roland.

If Roland expected to excite Oliver's jealousy, he was not likely to succeed. Our hero knew too well Carrie Dudley's real opinion of his step-brother to feel the least fear on the subject.

"I should like to see Frank and Carrie," said Oliver quietly. "They are the only persons I regret in Brentville."

"No love lost between us," returned Roland at once, applying the remark to himself.

"Probably not," said Oliver, with a smile.

"Have you got another place?" enquired Roland curiously.

"Not yet."

"I suppose you will find it hard, as you can't bring any recommendation."

"I wouldn't accept one fromMr.Bond," said Oliver haughtily.

"How do you get along then?"

"Pretty well, thank you."

"I mean, how do you pay your expenses?" persisted Roland. "You have no income, you know."

"I ought to have," blazed out Oliver indignantly. "My mother left a hundred thousand dollars, which you and your father have coolly appropriated."

"My father has no money that is not his own," retorted Roland, "and that is more than——"

"Stop there, Roland, or I may forget myself," interrupted Oliver sternly.

There was a menace in his tone which startled Roland, and he thought it best not to complete his sentence.

"I must be going," said Roland. "Have you dined?"

He asked the question chiefly out of curiosity.

"I dined at Delmonico's," replied Oliver, in a matter-of-fact tone, enjoying Roland's amazement.

"You did!" exclaimed Roland, well aware how expensive Delmonico's famous restaurant is.

"Yes; I had a capital dinner."

"I don't believe it. You are joking," said Roland incredulously.

"What makes you say that?"

"You can't afford to dine at such a place, a boy in your position. I don't believe you have five dollars in the world."

Now was the time for Oliver to confound his incredulous enemy.

He took out the roll of bills he had recentlyreceived and displayed it to Roland, letting him see five, ten, and twenty-dollar bills.

"I am not quite reduced to beggary, as you see," he said.

"How did you get all that money?" gasped Roland.

"I don't choose to tell you. I will only say this, that I have made more money since I leftMr.Bond's than I made while I was in his employment—three times over."

"You have?" ejaculated Roland, who was beginning to feel some respect for the boy who could make so much money, even though he disliked him. "I thought you hadn't got a place," he said, after a moment's thought.

"No more I have," replied Oliver. "I am my own employer."

"In business for yourself, hey?"

Oliver nodded.

"Well, good-morning. I'll tell Frank Dudley I have seen you."

"I wish you would."

He looked after Oliver, as he walked away, with the same feeling of wonder.

"How can a boy earn so much money?" he thought. "Oliver must be smart. I thought he'd be a beggar by this time."

In his secret heart Roland had never credited the charge of theft brought against Oliver. He didn't like him, and was ready enough to join in the charge of dishonesty fabricated by his father andMr.Bond, but really he knew Oliver too well to believe it. Otherwise he might have suspected that Oliver's supply of money was dishonestly obtained. He concluded that his step-brother must be doing some business of a very profitable character.

With a hundred dollars in his pocket, Oliver felt justified in re-engaging the room he had in the morning resolved to leave. He managed to see John Meadows at the time of his leaving the store, and enquired if he had yet hired his old room.

"No," said John, "I am just going round there. Will you go with me?"

"It won't be necessary," said Oliver. "We had better remain where we are."

John stared.

"But how will we pay the rent?" he asked. "You have nothing."

"Haven't I? I made a hundred dollars to-day."

John whistled.

"Come, now, you're gassin'," he said.

"Does that look like gassing?" said Oliver, displaying a roll of bills.

"Good gracious! where did you get it!"

Oliver smiled.

"I thought you would be surprised," he answered. "I'll tell you the story when we get home," he said. "Now let us go and tell our landlady we have changed our minds and will keep the room."

"I'm glad we can," said John Meadows. "I felt bad about going back to my old room, and I felt anxious about you, too."

"I think I shall get along," said Oliver hopefully.

"Perhaps there is more money to be made where you made your money to-day."

"I think not. At any rate, I don't care to earn any more the same way."

The same evening Oliver strayed into aprominent hotel on Broadway. He was alone, his room-mate having retired early on account of fatigue. In the smoking-room he saw, sitting by himself, a tall, bronzed, rather roughly dressed man, evidently not a dweller in cities, but having all the outward marks of a frontiersman. Something in Oliver attracted this man's attention, and led him to address our hero.

"Young man," he said, "do you live in New York?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then, perhaps you can recommend me to a quiet house where I can obtain a lodging. I aint used to fine hotels; they don't suit me."

"I can recommend the house where I am living," said Oliver. "It is quiet and comfortable, but not stylish."

"Style aint for me," said the stranger. "If it's where you live, I'll like it better. I like your looks and would like to get acquainted with you."

"Then," said Oliver, "I'll call here to-morrow morning and accompany you to thehouse. It would be too late to-night to make a change."

"That will do," said the stranger. "I will be here at nine o'clock. If you don't see me enquire for Nicholas Bundy."

CHAPTERXXII.OLIVER ADOPTS A NEW GUARDIAN.MRS. HILL, Oliver's landlady, was glad to obtain another lodger. She had a vacant square room which she was willing to let for five dollars a week. Oliver reported this to Nicholas Bundy at the hotel the next morning."If the price is too high," he added, with an involuntary glance at the stranger's shabby appearance, "perhapsMrs.Hill will take less.""I am willing to pay five dollars," said Nicholas promptly. "If you recommend it I have no doubt it will suit me."WhenMr.Bundy presented himself to the landlady, she, too,—for necessity had made her sharp-sighted and experience had made her suspicious,—evidently felt the same distrust as to his pecuniary status."Would you mind paying weekly in advance?" she asked doubtfully.A smile lighted up his rough features."No, ma'am," he said; "that'll suit me just as well."He drew out a large pouch, which appeared to be full of gold pieces, and drew therefrom an eagle."That'll pay for two weeks," he said, as he placed the coin in her hand.The display of so much gold and his willingness to pay for his room two weeks in advance at once increased the lady's respect for him."I shall try to make your room comfortable for you," she said. "There's a sofa I can put in, and I've got an extra rocking-chair."The stranger smiled."I'm afraid you'll spoil me," he said. "I'm used to roughing it, but you may put 'em in. When my young friend here comes to see me, he can sit on either."A shabby-looking trunk and a heavy wooden box were deposited in the room before sunset."Now I'm at home," said Nicholas Bundy,with satisfaction. "You'll come and see me often, won't you, Oliver?"He had already begun to call our hero by his Christian name, and evidently felt quite an interest in him."I can promise that," said Oliver, "for I am a gentleman of leisure just now.""How is that?" asked Bundy quickly."I have lost my situation, and have all my time at my own disposal.""How do you pay your way, then?" enquired Nicholas."I have money enough on hand to last me about ten weeks, or, with rigid economy, even longer. Before that time passes, I hope to get another situation.""How much does it cost you to live?""About ten dollars a week.""Suppose I employ you for about a week," proposed Bundy."Is it any work I am fit for?" asked Oliver. "If so, I say yes, and thank you.""It is something you can do. You must know that it is twenty years since I have set foot in New York, and it's grown beyond my knowledge.I want to go about and see for myself what changes have taken place in it. Will you go with me?""Yes,Mr.Bundy, I will go with you, and charge nothing for it.""That won't do," said the stranger. "I shall insist on paying you ten dollars a week.""But it seems like robbing you.""Don't you trouble yourself about that. You think I am poor, perhaps?""You don't look as if you were rich," said Oliver, hesitating."No, I suppose not," saidMr.Bundy slowly. "I don't look it, but I am worth fifty thousand dollars—in fact, more."Oliver looked surprised."You wonder that I am so rough-looking—that I don't wear fine clothes, and sport a gold watch and chain. It aint in my way, boy. I've been used to roughing it so long that it wouldn't come nat'ral for me to change—that's all.""I am glad you are so well off,Mr.Bundy," said Oliver heartily."Thank you, boy. It's well off in a way, I suppose, but it takes more than money to make a man well off.""I suppose it does," assented Oliver, but he privately thought that a man with so much money was "well off" after all."Suppose, after twenty years' absence, you came back to your old home and found not a friend left,—that you were alone in the world, and had no one to take the least interest in you,—is that being well off?""That is very nearly my own situation," said Oliver. "I have a step-father, but he has cast me off.""Did you care for him?""He never gave me cause to.""Then you don't miss him?""He has all my mother's property,—property that should be mine,—and he cast me off with twenty dollars.""He must be a mean skunk," saidMr.Bundy indignantly. "Tell me more about it."Upon this Oliver told his story.Mr.Bundy listened with sympathizing interest. At onepoint he smote the table with his hard fist and exclaimed:"The rhinoceros! I'd like to hammer him with my fist!""I should pity him if you did,Mr.Bundy," said Oliver smiling.When the story was ended Nicholas took the boy's hand in his, while his rough features worked with friendly emotion."You've been treated bad, Oliver," he said, "but don't mind it, boy. Nicholas Bundy'll be your friend. He won't see you want. You shan't suffer as long as I have an ounce of gold.""Thank you,Mr.Bundy," said Oliver gratefully. "I may need your help, but, remember, I have no claim on you.""You have as much claim as anyone. Look upon me as your guardian, and don't be anxious about the future. I, too, have been wrongly used, and some day I'll tell you the story."Two days later, as they sat on the deck of a Staten Island steamer, Nicholas Bundy told Oliver his story."Twenty years ago," he said, "I was a clerk in a store in New York. I was a spruce young man then—you wouldn't think it, but I was. I was earning a moderate salary, and spending it nearly all as I went along. About this time I fell in love with a young girl of sweet face and lovely disposition, and she returned my love. I've been battered about since, and the years have used me hard, but I wasn't so then. Well, I had a fellow-clerk, by name Jones,—Rupert Jones,—who took a fancy to the same girl. But he found she liked me better, and would say nothing to him, and he plotted my ruin. He was an artful, scheming villain, but I didn't know it then. I thought him to be my friend. That made it the easier for him to succeed in his fiendish plot. I needn't dwell upon details, but there was a sum of money missing by our employers, and through this man's ingenuity it was made to appear that I took it. It was charged upon me, and my denial was disbelieved. My employers were merciful men, and they wouldn't have me arrested. But I was dismissed in disgrace, and I learned toolate that he did it. I charged him with it, and he laughed in my face. 'Addie won't marry you now!' he said. Then I knew his motive. I am glad to say he made nothing by it. I resigned all claim to my betrothed, but though she consented to this, she spurned him."Well, my career in New York was ended. I had a little money, and, after selling my watch, I secured a cheap passage to California. I made my way direct to the mines, and at once began work. I had varying luck. At times I prospered; at times I suffered privation. I made my home away from the coast in the interior. At last, after twenty years, I found myself rich. Then I became restless. I turned my money into gold and sailed for New York. Here I am, and I have just one purpose in view—to find my old enemy and to punish him if I get the chance.""I can't blame you," said Oliver. "He spoiled your life.""Yes, he robbed me of my dearest hopes. I have suffered for his sin, for I have no doubt he took the money himself.""Do you know where he is now?""No; he may be in this city. If he is, I will find him. This is the great object of my life, and you must help me in it.""I?""Yes. I will take care of you. You shall not want for anything. In return, you can be my companion, my assistant, and my friend. Is it a bargain?""Yes," said Oliver impulsively."So be it, then. If you ever get tired of your engagement I will release you from it; but I don't think you will.""Do you know, or have you any idea, where this man is—this Rupert Jones?""I have heard that such a man is living on Staten Island. I saw his name in the New York Directory. That is why I wished to come here to-day.""We are at the first landing," said Oliver. "Shall we land?""Yes."The two passed over the gang-plank upon the pier, and the boat went on its way to the second landing.

MRS. HILL, Oliver's landlady, was glad to obtain another lodger. She had a vacant square room which she was willing to let for five dollars a week. Oliver reported this to Nicholas Bundy at the hotel the next morning.

"If the price is too high," he added, with an involuntary glance at the stranger's shabby appearance, "perhapsMrs.Hill will take less."

"I am willing to pay five dollars," said Nicholas promptly. "If you recommend it I have no doubt it will suit me."

WhenMr.Bundy presented himself to the landlady, she, too,—for necessity had made her sharp-sighted and experience had made her suspicious,—evidently felt the same distrust as to his pecuniary status.

"Would you mind paying weekly in advance?" she asked doubtfully.

A smile lighted up his rough features.

"No, ma'am," he said; "that'll suit me just as well."

He drew out a large pouch, which appeared to be full of gold pieces, and drew therefrom an eagle.

"That'll pay for two weeks," he said, as he placed the coin in her hand.

The display of so much gold and his willingness to pay for his room two weeks in advance at once increased the lady's respect for him.

"I shall try to make your room comfortable for you," she said. "There's a sofa I can put in, and I've got an extra rocking-chair."

The stranger smiled.

"I'm afraid you'll spoil me," he said. "I'm used to roughing it, but you may put 'em in. When my young friend here comes to see me, he can sit on either."

A shabby-looking trunk and a heavy wooden box were deposited in the room before sunset.

"Now I'm at home," said Nicholas Bundy,with satisfaction. "You'll come and see me often, won't you, Oliver?"

He had already begun to call our hero by his Christian name, and evidently felt quite an interest in him.

"I can promise that," said Oliver, "for I am a gentleman of leisure just now."

"How is that?" asked Bundy quickly.

"I have lost my situation, and have all my time at my own disposal."

"How do you pay your way, then?" enquired Nicholas.

"I have money enough on hand to last me about ten weeks, or, with rigid economy, even longer. Before that time passes, I hope to get another situation."

"How much does it cost you to live?"

"About ten dollars a week."

"Suppose I employ you for about a week," proposed Bundy.

"Is it any work I am fit for?" asked Oliver. "If so, I say yes, and thank you."

"It is something you can do. You must know that it is twenty years since I have set foot in New York, and it's grown beyond my knowledge.I want to go about and see for myself what changes have taken place in it. Will you go with me?"

"Yes,Mr.Bundy, I will go with you, and charge nothing for it."

"That won't do," said the stranger. "I shall insist on paying you ten dollars a week."

"But it seems like robbing you."

"Don't you trouble yourself about that. You think I am poor, perhaps?"

"You don't look as if you were rich," said Oliver, hesitating.

"No, I suppose not," saidMr.Bundy slowly. "I don't look it, but I am worth fifty thousand dollars—in fact, more."

Oliver looked surprised.

"You wonder that I am so rough-looking—that I don't wear fine clothes, and sport a gold watch and chain. It aint in my way, boy. I've been used to roughing it so long that it wouldn't come nat'ral for me to change—that's all."

"I am glad you are so well off,Mr.Bundy," said Oliver heartily.

"Thank you, boy. It's well off in a way, I suppose, but it takes more than money to make a man well off."

"I suppose it does," assented Oliver, but he privately thought that a man with so much money was "well off" after all.

"Suppose, after twenty years' absence, you came back to your old home and found not a friend left,—that you were alone in the world, and had no one to take the least interest in you,—is that being well off?"

"That is very nearly my own situation," said Oliver. "I have a step-father, but he has cast me off."

"Did you care for him?"

"He never gave me cause to."

"Then you don't miss him?"

"He has all my mother's property,—property that should be mine,—and he cast me off with twenty dollars."

"He must be a mean skunk," saidMr.Bundy indignantly. "Tell me more about it."

Upon this Oliver told his story.Mr.Bundy listened with sympathizing interest. At onepoint he smote the table with his hard fist and exclaimed:

"The rhinoceros! I'd like to hammer him with my fist!"

"I should pity him if you did,Mr.Bundy," said Oliver smiling.

When the story was ended Nicholas took the boy's hand in his, while his rough features worked with friendly emotion.

"You've been treated bad, Oliver," he said, "but don't mind it, boy. Nicholas Bundy'll be your friend. He won't see you want. You shan't suffer as long as I have an ounce of gold."

"Thank you,Mr.Bundy," said Oliver gratefully. "I may need your help, but, remember, I have no claim on you."

"You have as much claim as anyone. Look upon me as your guardian, and don't be anxious about the future. I, too, have been wrongly used, and some day I'll tell you the story."

Two days later, as they sat on the deck of a Staten Island steamer, Nicholas Bundy told Oliver his story.

"Twenty years ago," he said, "I was a clerk in a store in New York. I was a spruce young man then—you wouldn't think it, but I was. I was earning a moderate salary, and spending it nearly all as I went along. About this time I fell in love with a young girl of sweet face and lovely disposition, and she returned my love. I've been battered about since, and the years have used me hard, but I wasn't so then. Well, I had a fellow-clerk, by name Jones,—Rupert Jones,—who took a fancy to the same girl. But he found she liked me better, and would say nothing to him, and he plotted my ruin. He was an artful, scheming villain, but I didn't know it then. I thought him to be my friend. That made it the easier for him to succeed in his fiendish plot. I needn't dwell upon details, but there was a sum of money missing by our employers, and through this man's ingenuity it was made to appear that I took it. It was charged upon me, and my denial was disbelieved. My employers were merciful men, and they wouldn't have me arrested. But I was dismissed in disgrace, and I learned toolate that he did it. I charged him with it, and he laughed in my face. 'Addie won't marry you now!' he said. Then I knew his motive. I am glad to say he made nothing by it. I resigned all claim to my betrothed, but though she consented to this, she spurned him.

"Well, my career in New York was ended. I had a little money, and, after selling my watch, I secured a cheap passage to California. I made my way direct to the mines, and at once began work. I had varying luck. At times I prospered; at times I suffered privation. I made my home away from the coast in the interior. At last, after twenty years, I found myself rich. Then I became restless. I turned my money into gold and sailed for New York. Here I am, and I have just one purpose in view—to find my old enemy and to punish him if I get the chance."

"I can't blame you," said Oliver. "He spoiled your life."

"Yes, he robbed me of my dearest hopes. I have suffered for his sin, for I have no doubt he took the money himself."

"Do you know where he is now?"

"No; he may be in this city. If he is, I will find him. This is the great object of my life, and you must help me in it."

"I?"

"Yes. I will take care of you. You shall not want for anything. In return, you can be my companion, my assistant, and my friend. Is it a bargain?"

"Yes," said Oliver impulsively.

"So be it, then. If you ever get tired of your engagement I will release you from it; but I don't think you will."

"Do you know, or have you any idea, where this man is—this Rupert Jones?"

"I have heard that such a man is living on Staten Island. I saw his name in the New York Directory. That is why I wished to come here to-day."

"We are at the first landing," said Oliver. "Shall we land?"

"Yes."

The two passed over the gang-plank upon the pier, and the boat went on its way to the second landing.

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