It was necessary for Jet to inquire the way to the depot spoken of by his new acquaintance, and after arriving there his helplessness seemed more apparent than before.
Passengers coming and going paid no attention to the boy, save to push him out of their road, and he was even more alone in the hurrying throng than he had been on the street.
After wandering to and fro, trying to screw up courage enough to ask the conductor for a free ride, and failing in the effort because none of the train hands would give him an opportunity to speak with them, he sat down on a truck and mechanically plunged his hands in his pockets.
The paper purchased on the evening previous was the only thing which met his touch.
"I might as well find out about this murder," he said to himself, as he unfolded the printed sheet. "When a feller is readin' he kinder forgets how hungry he is, I reckon."
To give the printed account in all its details would require too much space, since there were no less than five columns in Jet's paper.
The substance was to the effect that a well-known merchant, residing on East Twentieth Street, had been found on the floor of his library the previous morning, his skull crushed in as if with some heavy instrument like a crow-bar, or a burglar's jimmy, and the safe, which was known to have contained money and bonds to the amount of forty-six thousand dollars, was broken open and empty.
The theory of the detectives was that thieves had entered the dwelling for the purpose of robbery; but having been surprised by the owner, killed him in order to make good their escape.
A large tuft of hair in the dead man's hand told that he had grappled with his murderers, and the overturned furniture spoke of a long and desperate struggle.
Singular as it may seem none of the other occupants of the house had heard any unusual noise, although the uproar must have been great for some moments, nor was any shock perceived when the safe door had been blown off.
It was as the paper stated, the most mysterious of the many detective-baffling crimes which had been committed in New York city, because of the fact that such a deed could have been done without alarming any one in the vicinity.
Nothing was said regarding the men for whom Jet had carried the satchel, because at the time the article had been written the police were not in possession of this very valuable clew.
Jet had finished reading the article, and was studying the matter in his mind without being able to arrive at any definite conclusion regarding the course he should pursue, except that he was eager to follow the men who had treated him so roughly, when a stranger halted directly in front of him.
"You don't seem to be very busy."
"It kinder looks that way for a fact."
"Taking a vacation?"
"A good deal more of a one than I want. I'd like to pick up some kind of a job that would pay a little money between now an' bedtime."
"Live here?"
"In New York. A couple of duffers hired me to come here, an' then skipped without payin'."
"So you're stranded?"
"You'd think so if you didn't have a blessed cent, an' was hungry enough to eat up the whole town."
"Do you want to earn money to take you back to the city?"
"I'd rather go to Cooperstown Junction."
"Then you'd be worse off than you are here, for it isn't any town."
"That's where I want to go all the same."
"I can give you a chance if you'll work your way."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I've got a minstrel company on the road, and wouldn't mind paying the traveling expenses of a smart boy who will distribute programmes and make himself generally useful."
"A show! Say, I can do a mighty good turn at dancin', and give some of these fellers what think they know it all, a few points."
"Step out and let me see what you can do."
Jet was by no means bashful; in a few seconds he was dancing as spiritedly as if such discomforts as hunger and fatigue were unknown.
"You'll do," the stranger said, approvingly, when the boy ceased his efforts. "I'll take you along, and pay a little something if you'll do a turn."
"You can bet your life I will, but I don't want to go any farther than Cooperstown Junction."
"Very well, there'll be plenty of time to talk about that part of the business, for we shall make three stands between here and there. Take this money to buy something in the way of a lunch, and in twenty minutes we'll start."
Jet was overjoyed.
By this arrangement he saw an opportunity to follow the alleged murderers, and at the same time earn money to return to New York if necessary.
Probably if he had told his new employer the whole story that gentleman would have advised him to call upon the inspector without delay, rather than try to run the criminals down himself.
As it was, however, he believed he knew exactly what course to pursue, and had little doubt as to succeeding.
Two sandwiches and three boiled eggs were the provisions he purchased to break his long fast, and when the train drew out of the depot the amateur dancer, seated by the side of his employer, thought he was very fortunate.
Cobleskill was the town where Jet was to make his first bow before the public, and with a costume which was rather "off color" because of having been contributed in fragments by the different members of the company, he stepped on the stage feeling just a trifle nervous.
To the surprise of his professional companions Jet gave a really presentable performance.
It is true some of his steps were not exactly artistic, but he made up in quantity what might have been lacking in quality, and the applause received was enough to make him proud.
"Say, my boy, you'll make a success of this thing if you do a little studying," the manager exclaimed when Jet finished his turn. "I'll give you ten dollars a week and pay all your expenses if you want to keep on the road with us."
"I don't reckon I'll stay more than the three nights we talked about, 'cause you see I've got some work to do when we strike Cooperstown Junction."
"You'll be glad enough to drop it when you see what kind of a place it is."
During the remainder of the evening Jet had nothing to do save watch the other performers from the wings, and but for the fear that the inspector might send an officer to arrest him, he would have enjoyed himself hugely.
On the following day he took part in the street parade at the next stopping place, and during the afternoon read everything concerning the tragedy he could find in the hotel reading-room papers.
He did not gain any great amount of information, however.
The particulars of the murder were related at greater length, and it was said that several promising clews were being followed, but no details were given concerning the work of the detectives.
"Jest as likely as not I'll surprise people before this thing is over. If I can get on the track of them men Something is goin' to happen for a fact."
He had already begun to speculate on the anticipated triumph when he should, unaided, bring the guilty men to justice, as his gaze fell on an advertisement displayed in large type:
A suitable reward will be paid for information as to the whereabouts of Jethro Lewis. The said boy is fourteen years of age, medium size, curly hair, and when last seen wore a suit of grey clothes with a district messenger's cap, on which were the figures 48.AddressX. Y. Z.,Heraldoffice.
"The inspector is after me," Jet whispered as the paper fell from his grasp. "Now my jig is up, an' I reckon there's no chance but that I'll have to go to jail."
Jet tore the advertisement from the sheet lest it should be seen by some member of the company, and then went at once to the theater, where he could remain screened from view of the townspeople.
The one thought in his mind was that all would be well if he could get on the track of those who had kidnapped him, and he blamed himself severely for not having gone straight on to Cooperstown Junction, instead of remaining with the company, but how that might have been done while he was penniless was something he did not attempt to solve.
"I won't stay any longer than to-night," he said to himself as the curtain was raised for the evening's performance, and the stage manager warned him to be ready for his cue. "There must be some way of getting over to that place without waiting for the company."
On this night he felt more confidence in himself, having had two rehearsals with the leader of the orchestra, and at the signal went before the audience confidently.
On the previous performance he had not dared to look at the people, but kept his eyes on the stage. Now, however, he glanced around, and the dance was hardly begun before he brought it to a close, the musicians gazing at him in surprise.
The cause of his sudden stopping was startling enough to have disconcerted a much older performer.
Facing him, and not more than two rows of seats from the stage, sat the two men he was so anxious to meet.
"Go on!" the leader of the orchestra whispered hoarsely, and from the wings he heard the angry command of the stage manager:
"Get to work, boy! Do you want to queer the whole show?"
Jet nerved himself to begin the dance, but he was so exceedingly awkward that several of the audience guyed him, a fact which deprived him of the small remnant of self-possession remaining.
Without stopping to consider what the result might be, he ran at full speed from the stage, and the spectators hooted and yelled derisively.
"What is the matter with you?" the manager asked fiercely, as he shook Jet until his teeth chattered.
"Them men are there!" the boy cried brokenly. "I must go right out an' get hold of them."
"You'll go and stay, you little villain! If you couldn't dance I wouldn't say a word, but I know what you are able to do. Where are you off to now?"
"I want to change these clothes so's I can go around to the front of the house."
"What for?"
"Them men are there, an' I've got to find out where they're stopping."
"What are they to you?
"Don't stop to ask questions now, but let me go!" Jet cried, impatiently, as he tore himself from the angry man's grasp, threw off the stage costume and ran from the building.
With no idea his enemies had recognized him, he continued on without fear until reaching the corner of the building, where one of the men was standing half hidden by the shadow.
The fellow's hand was raised, and as Jet came up he struck the boy a crashing blow on the head with a stout stick, felling him to the ground like one suddenly deprived of life.
When Jet regained consciousness he was lying on the ground alone, feeling dizzy and suffering from a most severe pain in his head.
He raised his hand as if to relieve the anguish, and found that his hair was matted together with a certain sticky substance, which, by aid of a light from a near-by lamp, he discovered to be blood.
From the theater music could be heard, thus telling that the performance had not yet been brought to a close.
It was only after the greatest difficulty that Jet rose to his feet, looked around for an instant as if expecting another attack, and then staggered toward the stage entrance.
He spent ten minutes covering a distance of twenty yards, and, on opening the door, was greeted by one of the company, who had evidently come out for a breath of fresh air.
"You had better not let the manager see you until after he cools off a little more, for—— What is the matter, lad?"
This last question after the boy's pale and blood-stained face could be seen.
"Somebody struck me."
"Struck you? It looks more as if they had been trying to kill you."
"Perhaps that was what they did want to do," and Jet half-seated himself, half-fell on a trunk.
However aggrieved the members of the company may have felt because of Jet's failure, none of them were so hard-hearted as to ignore the fact of his suffering. Those not on the stage were immediately summoned by the boy's questioner, and in a very few seconds a messenger had been sent in search of a surgeon.
"Don't bother about me; I'll be all right in a little while," Jet managed to say, and then he fainted.
It was soon found that the boy's injuries, while severe, were not dangerous.
The scalp had been laid open to such an extent that half a dozen stitches were necessary to close the wound, and the surgeon said, reassuringly, as he bandaged the cut:
"He has lost considerable blood, which accounts for his weak condition. It will be some time before he feels all right again; but he'll come around in good shape."
"Will it do him any harm to keep on traveling with us?" the manager asked.
"Let him be quiet, and I don't anticipate any evil results. Do you know how it happened?"
"No. He was very anxious to see some one in the audience, and I fancy he went out immediately after breaking down in his act."
"Then send around at once and learn if anybody left the hall just before the assault."
This suggestion was acted upon immediately, and the doorkeeper stated that two men, one tall and the other of medium height, went out very soon after Jet ran off the stage.
"It must have been some fellow who had a grudge against him, and he broke down from fright at seeing the man; but I don't fancy it will do much good to attempt to trace the matter. Show people can't afford to fool around a town waiting for the delays of the law when they are billed to play in other places, therefore the whole thing had better be dropped."
The surgeon received his fee and left the invalid after advising that he be kept perfectly quiet.
The performers continued their efforts to amuse, and Jet, lying on a pile of wardrobe stuff, with the music of the orchestra and the applause of the audience ringing in his ears, tried to decide upon his course of action.
"I'll have to leave the show here an' find them fellers," he thought to himself, and then the pain of his wound prevented any further study of the detective work he hoped to perform.
It so chanced, however, that he did not carry out this resolution.
When morning came he was too sick to have much choice in the matter, and the kind-hearted manager said as he wrapped the boy in an old overcoat:
"We'll take him along in the hope of his getting better. If he don't improve in a day or two he can be left in some other town, for it's certain his life isn't safe in this place. Those fellows hit to kill last night, and on a second attempt might be more successful."
It was forty-eight hours before Jet fully realized the condition of affairs, and then the show was nearly a hundred miles from the scene of the attack.
"Have we passed Cooperstown Junction?" he asked of the manager as the performers boarded a train.
"Bless your heart, lad, we left that desolate place behind us the morning after you were hurt."
"How can I get back there?"
"I shan't allow you to try it yet awhile. In your present condition it would be as much as your life is worth to make the attempt."
"But I must go."
"See here, Jet, why not tell me what is on your mind? I might be able to help you."
"Some time you shall know all about it; but not now."
"Just as you please," was the impatient reply. "Will you be able to do a turn to-night?"
"I must get off the train at the next station."
"Not much."
"That's what I've got to do. You've been mighty good to me, but I can't go any farther from New York."
"How will you get back without money?"
"Walk, if there isn't any other way."
It was useless for the manager to make any protest. He was eager to keep Jet with the company, for he had seen that he could please the public; but after quite a lengthy conversation the boy's determination was so strong that it would have been useless to oppose him further.
"Well, if I can't help myself, I suppose you must go. Here are a couple of dollars to help out on the trip, and I hope you'll win, whatever's in the wind."
"When does the train stop?"
"In less than ten minutes."
Jet made his preparations for leaving by removing the coat which one of the company had contributed for his comfort, but the manager insisted that he keep it, and when he stepped upon the platform of a small station while the train continued on, it was with a very decided sense of loneliness.
His first care was to buy a new hat.
His messenger's cap was too conspicuous, and afforded positive means of identification in case he met with any one who had read the advertisement.
Then came the question as to whether he should return by the train at the expense of his small capital, or walk at the expense of time.
"It ain't certain they stayed in that town after knockin' me down, an' I stand as good a chance of meetin' 'em on the road as anywhere else, so I'll tramp it."
After investing twenty cents in crackers and cheese, and consulting with the station master as to whether it would be advisable for him to follow the track or the carriage road, Jet set out on his journey.
"Counting ties" was not as easy a job as he had fancied, and after an hour's steady walking he sat down to rest a short distance from the road, in the shelter of a shanty which looked as if it might originally have been intended for a tool-house when that portion of the road was being built.
He had not yet fully recovered from the effects of the murderous blow, and the steady traveling tired him to such an extent that it became necessary to lie down.
The natural result of this indulgence was that he soon fell asleep, and even the rumbling of the trains as they passed failed to awaken him, until after some time, when he became aware of a tugging and pulling at his coat.
Opening his eyes, he saw crouching by his side about as villainous a looking tramp as one would care to meet.
"What are you up to?" Jet cried angrily, as he attempted to rise to his feet, but was prevented by the man, who threw one arm around the boy's body.
"Lay still, sonny, an' nobody shan't hurt you."
"Take your hand out of my pocket!" and Jet cautiously drew up his legs ready for a sudden dash.
"Now don't get into a fidget; I'm only tryin' to find out if you've got a license to travel over this 'ere road."
The fellow was now doing his utmost to get at the contents of his prisoner's pockets, and although the special one on which he was working contained nothing of value, Jet did not intend to submit to the indignity.
He had drawn his feet up as far as possible, and was ready for the struggle.
Striking the man a blow in the eye with his disengaged hand, he kicked upward an instant later, hitting the tramp fairly on the back of the head as he involuntarily sprang backwards from the effects of the pain.
This vigorous treatment sufficed to break the hold, and Jet sprang to his feet just in time to avoid a vicious blow.
"Try to get the best of me will you?" the man cried, savagely, as he picked up a heavy cane which lay near by, keeping his eye meanwhile on the boy.
Jet knew he must do his best, or suffer for what had been done.
He could see nothing which would serve as a weapon, and was thinking it might be best to make a break for freedom, when the man sprang upon him.
Luckily he succeeded in avoiding a blow from the cane, by seizing with both hands the tramp's right arm, and then came a desperate struggle.
Not for a moment did he dare to release his hold lest the fellow should be able to use his weapon, and in the meanwhile he was pummeled soundly.
The man's left hand was at liberty, and with it he showered blow after blow on the boy's body.
Jet managed to screen his face by using the tramp's arm as a shield, and, finding that he was getting the worst of it darted forward at the same time he kicked with all his strength.
This sudden attack sent the man to the ground, and as he fell Jet wrested the cane from his grasp.
"It's my turn now!" he cried, as the fellow scrambled to his feet in a rage. "Make tracks out of this mighty fast or I'll break every bone in your body!"
The man glared at him fiercely for an instant, and then, stepping back a few paces, shouted loudly in a peculiar tone.
"Stop that!" and Jet ran forward with the stick uplifted. "Don't you dare to bring your friends here."
"You spoke a leetle too late, sonny, for they're coming."
Jet glanced quickly down the track, where could be seen two others of the same sort as his adversary, running at full speed.
"I reckon we won't have any trouble about huntin' for your license now," the fellow said with a grin as he retreated to a safe distance.
Jet hesitated an instant.
He knew that it would be useless to make a stand-up fight against all three, but yet at the same time flight was impossible, because of his exhaustion, caused by the struggle with the tramp.
Looking quickly around, he observed that the door of the shanty was open, hanging by one hinge.
The hut might serve as a place of refuge until some of the section hands should come that way and he leaped into the building.
Wrenching the door from its fastening, he pulled it inside, and set it up lengthwise as a sort of a barrier.
"They'll have to come within reach of this cane before getting at me, an' it'll be hard luck if I don't give a good account of myself for a little while," he said, as with compressed lips, he waited for the battle which he knew must soon begin.
The two tramps who were coming down the track halted on reaching the one who had attacked Jet, and all had a brief conversation, which evidently concerned the occupant of the shanty.
Jet watched every movement, but while they were talking he had an opportunity to gaze around the hut in the hope of seeing other means of defense.
It was empty, with the exception of a pile of straw in one corner, which most likely had served as a bed for these or other tramps.
"There's nothing for it but to stand up here as long as possible, and perhaps somebody will come along before they can get the best of me," he said grimly. "If things are going on at this rate, it would have been better for me if I'd stayed with the show, for this isn't doin' very much toward findin' the murderers."
The men had finished their conversation, and were now approaching the shanty.
Jet raised the heavy cane, and stood ready for the battle.
It was not to begin as quickly as he thought, for the three men halted a few yards away, and one of them said, in a wheedling tone, as he stepped several paces nearer:
"See here, sonny, we're poor, hard-workin' carpenters out of a job. There's no need of havin' trouble with you; but we're that hungry as to make a fight seem pleasant alongside of suckin' our thumbs an' eatin' wind-puddin' all the time."
"What do you mean by all that?"
"Nothin' more'n to let you know how we're fixed."
"It doesn't concern me."
"There's where you're makin' a big mistake, sonny. You've got money an' we're broke, so it's nothin' more'n fair you should whack up."
"I'm no better off than you are, or I wouldn't be walking instead of riding on the cars."
"Then come out like a man an' show us what you have got."
"I'd be a fool to do that, for it's none of your business."
"Now you're makin' another mistake. We've been put here to find out sich things."
"There's no use of all this chinning, for I'm not a fool," Jet cried, angrily. "I shan't come out, nor will you have a chance to rob me."
"I'm sorry you won't listen to reason, for we may have to treat you mighty rough before this job is finished."
"Do the best you know how, but remember that I'm going to have something to say first," and Jet swung the cane threateningly.
"Better take him right out; we'll have visitors before long, an' it won't do to have sich a cub around," the leader of the party said, as he advanced, after having armed himself with several huge rocks.
Now the battle began in downright earnest.
Almost before Jet understood that the men were ready to make the attack a shower of stones were hurled against the shanty, and two came unpleasantly near his head as they were flung through the door.
"If one of them hits me the jig is up," Jet muttered, dodging his head barely in time to escape a huge fragment which would have crushed his skull like an eggshell.
"We'll give you one more chance to come out peaceable like," the leader cried, as he motioned for his companions to cease firing.
If it had not been for the ignominy of backing down from the bold stand he had taken, Jet would have accepted the invitation.
The small amount of money in his possession did not warrant a risk of life, and then again he was but delaying the real purpose of his life by remaining.
His pride prevented him from surrendering, and he made no reply.
Again the men advanced with a shower of stones, and now they were so near that Jet could only find shelter by hugging the side of the hut nearest the door.
"Can't some of you hit him?" the leader asked, angrily. "We mustn't keep the fun up very long, for the boss is bound to come mighty soon, an' there'll be a row that amounts to something if he finds us foolin' like this."
These words caused the men to renew their efforts, and twice did Jet receive a severe blow on the body before he found an opportunity to return the compliment.
Then one of the fellows, leaning over the barricade in order to take better aim, presented a fair target.
Jet brought the cane down on his head with full force, and the fellow fell to the ground like one dead.
A roar of rage went up from the others, but they prudently fell back a short distance, dragging their companion with them.
"You see it isn't going to be so one-sided as you fancied," Jet cried. "Now haul off an' I'll leave without saying another word."
"You won't have much more chance to talk," the leader cried, savagely, as he gathered another armful of rocks; but before he could renew the attack a shout from the distance caused him to drop his weapons very suddenly.
"The boss has come, an' now we shall get a tongue-lashing!" one of the fellows said, as if in alarm.
"I reckon that won't hurt us very much," the leader replied, but at the same time he dropped the rocks, and stood ready to receive the new-comer.
Jet could not see the track from where he was standing, but he heard what sounded like a familiar voice ask, sharply:
"Now what kind of deviltry are you fellers into?"
"Trying to drive out a rat we've got cornered in here."
"Same old tricks, eh? Well, some of these days you'll bite off more than can be chewed easily, an' then the jig will be up for all hands. Can't you act decent one day in a month?"
"That depends. When we're left alone three or four weeks on mighty short allowance, it stands us in hand to look out for ourselves," the leader of the party replied, insolently.
"Take care of your tongue, my friend, or there'll be something else needin' care precious soon. Let me see your game."
Jet heard the sound of rapid footsteps, and an instant later the tall man whom he had such good cause to remember was standing at a safe distance trying to peer into the shanty.
"Hello!" he cried, in surprise, as he recognized the boy. "It seems that you've been doin' a lucky stroke of business without knowing it. Don't let him give you the slip, an' bring him over to the house as soon as possible."
"Somebody you know?" one of the fellows asked.
"Yes, a boy who has found out too much for his own good, and he must be kept mighty close."
"It wouldn't take long to fix that for you," was the significant reply.
"We may have to do it; but Bob is agin that kind of business, an' to humor him we must keep the cub awhile."
"Has Bob come back?"
"He must be at the house by this time."
"Have you brought grub?"
"Of course not. Do you think we travel around the country loaded down like pack horses?"
"Better do that than go hungry."
"Is everything used up?"
"Yes, or we shouldn't be down here."
"I'll see to layin' in a stock, an' there shall be plenty to drink. When you can get hold of the boy, come along; I'll start now."
The man disappeared from view, and the sound of his footsteps told that he was walking rapidly away in the direction from which he had approached.
"What a fool I was to stay here fightin' for less than two dollars, when by giving it up I might have been half a mile from here before that villain came!" Jet said, bitterly, as he nerved himself for what he knew must be the final struggle.
He had good cause for fear.
After the instructions which had been given there was little chance the men would let him slip through their fingers, and, with such an incentive on their part, there was no hope the struggle could be prolonged.
The man whom he had stricken down was now on his feet, vowing vengeance, and ready to continue the fight.
"Close right in on him," the leader said as he seized a stout rail from a near-by fence. "He can only hit one blow, and the job is ended."
"I'll give them a chance to remember me," Jet said, as he stood ready for the attack, and the words had hardly come into his mind before the men were in front of him.
Striking out with all his strength, his cane came in contact with the leader's weapon, shattering the former, and the fight was over.
Two of the men seized him by the arms, and the third amused himself by slapping the helpless boy in the face until tired of the sport.
"Tie his hands, an' we'll mosey along. Joe is after something to drink, an' we must be there in time to get our share."
One of the party had rope enough in his pocket to obey the order, and in a twinkling Jet's arms were bound so tightly to his sides as to cause great pain.
During all this time he had not spoken a word, but he did a "power of thinking."
In the first place he scrutinized his captors carefully, in order to be able to give a perfect description of them in case he succeeded in making his escape, and then took a good survey of the surrounding country, that he might find his way back again.
"Now get along, an' walk sharp, or what I have given you will seem no more than a flea-bite alongside of the whalin' you'll get," the leader said as one of the party started off, and he pushed Jet behind him.
The prisoner could do no less than obey, and despite the disadvantage of walking with his hands tied, he managed to keep pace with the others. During nearly half an hour the party continued on at a rapid pace, turning out of the railroad track about a quarter of a mile from the shanty, and striking directly through the woods.
At the end of this time they had arrived at what appeared to be little more than a clearing in the woods, where was situated a rude log house of two stories, around which was piled a complete circle of cordwood not less than six feet high.
It may have been cut for fuel, but it would serve admirably as breast-works if the place was attacked by officers.
A small outbuilding, which was evidently used as a stable, stood fifteen or twenty feet in the rear of the main building, inside the circle of wood, and near the door were tied two savage looking dogs, who tugged and pulled at their chains, while they barked loudly as the party approached.
"If we had left them loose, I don't reckon either the boss or Bob would have cared to come very near while we were away," the leader of the party said grimly, as he went toward the stable, leaving the others in charge of the prisoner.
"There ain't much chance I'll ever be able to tell the inspector what I've been doing," Jet thought as he entered the enclosure formed by the fuel, and was led toward the single door of which the house boasted. "Those dogs would be worse than a hundred men if a fellow was trying to sneak off."
He had no further opportunity for speculation just then, for the men pushed him roughly into the house, and he stood in front of the short man who had so successfully acted the part of a gentleman at the Union Square Hotel.
"It seems to be pretty hard to get rid of you," the man said, with a grin as Jet stood in front of him.
"I can't say it's my fault."
"Perhaps not, and it shan't be ours in the future. Where have you been?"
"Trying to earn money enough to pay my way back home."
"We'll provide you a job here. If you behave yourself things won't go so very bad; but there'll be the very devil to pay if we find you trying to give us the slip."
"I shan't stay any longer'n I can help," Jet replied, stoutly.
"We'll take good care that you can't help it for some time. Sam, take him up stairs where the small press was; I reckon he'll be safe enough there; and when Joe comes back turn the dogs loose."
"Then you an' he'll have to be mighty careful about goin' into the yard, for they'll tackle either of you as quick as they would this boy."
"So much the better. We'll look out for ourselves. There must be work done to-night, so get ready for it while you are up stairs."
The fellow waited an instant as if to learn whether there were any more directions to be given, and then dragged Jet out through a door which led to the apartments above.
There were no stairs connecting the first with the second story. A stout ladder afforded the only means of ascent, and since Jet could not make his way up this while his hands were tied, his jailor was forced to remove the rope.
"Now get along; but look out how you try to play any tricks, for this is a mighty unhealthy place for anything of the kind."
Jet had no idea of attempting to escape while the odds were so decidedly against him, and he obeyed meekly.
The man conducted him to a small room at the rear of the building, which looked as if it had lately been used as a workshop, and there left him, after locking and barring the door from the outside.
The prisoner gazed around him curiously.
The apartment did not contain a single article of furniture. One small window admitted the light, and this was so heavily barred with wooden uprights that even with a sharp saw considerable time would have been required for the prisoner to cut through.
In one corner was a heap of dirt and fragments of paper; the floor was stained as if with ink, as were the walls of hewn boards.
From the window the stable was all with the exception of trees, to be seen. A more desolate spot could not well be imagined, and to add to its loneliness was the fact that it must be many miles from the nearest habitation.
Jet had no time to speculate upon his own condition; the only thought in his mind just then was why these men chose to live in such a forsaken place.
In an adjoining room he could hear some person walking around briskly, evidently moving heavy articles from one spot to another, and from below came the hum of conversation.
Having nothing better to do, and still intent on trying to learn the purpose for which this house was intended, Jet began kicking away the pile of dirt.
A bit of bright green attracted his attention.
Picking it up he found to his great surprise and delight that it was a new ten dollar bill. The fact, that it was unsigned escaped his notice.
"Well, this isn't so bad," he said, in a tone of satisfaction. "If I ever do get away from this place I'll have money enough to pay my fare to New York. I s'pose it belongs to them fellers; but I'm going to keep it, all the same, to even up for what they've done."
Now the dirt pile had great attractions.
He examined it closely, and had the satisfaction of finding a second bill exactly like the first.
"These people must have plenty of money if they can afford to leave it around loose like this," he said, as he placed the newly found wealth in his stocking directly beneath his foot.
Quite a large quantity of plain paper in small strips was all that rewarded his further search among the dirt; but he did not think there was any cause for complaint on his part.
"Twenty dollars will come pretty nigh settlin' for all them fellers have done to me. Now let's try to study up a plan for gettin' out of this place. There must be some way."
A second examination of the window gave no encouragement, for his strength was not sufficient to force aside the bars.
The boards of the floor, while not nailed with any remarkable care, defied all his attempts to remove them.
Then he looked at the ceiling, which was composed only of the rafters with beams, poles, and boards laid across the top, but, so far as he could judge, unfastened.
"I don't know as I should be any better off if I was up there; but it won't do much harm to make a try in that direction after dark. A fellow ought to be able to shin up the window bars."
The more he thought of this possibility for escape the more simple did it seem, and he resolved on putting the plan into execution.
That the dogs were outside ready to try conclusions with any stranger he understood very well; but it was useless to borrow trouble on this score until learning whether there was a chance for him to descend to their level.
"I don't s'pose it'll amount to anything more than gettin' into the loft, an' then coming down again; but it's better than laying still," he said, and from that time until sunset he remained at the window gazing out at the trees and the deep-mouthed guardians of the place.
When, as nearly as he could judge, two hours had passed from the time of his arrival, the tall man drove up in a springless wagon which was apparently filled with food and liquor.
The load was taken into the house, the horse stabled, and then the dogs were let loose.
That they would be very disagreeable customers with whom to have any dispute could be well understood as they ran to and fro growling and snarling, and despite his resolve not to borrow trouble until he knew there was a possibility it could come, Jet could not prevent himself from speculating upon what would happen if he suddenly appeared before them.
It was nearly sunset before the door of his room was opened, and then the short man entered, bringing several slices of raw bacon, half a loaf of bread, and a bottle of water.
"I don't count on havin' you starve to death," he said, as he placed the articles on the floor; "but you won't get enough to injure your health, I reckon."
"Why don't you let me go to New York? I haven't done anything to harm you."
"That is because you haven't had much of a chance as yet, except to talk with the inspector, my boy, and we don't intend to give you one. There isn't—"
"Here, Bob! What's the use of chinnin' with that cub when the grub is ready. Come down, or I won't answer that your share will be left."
This threat had the desired effect, for Bob went out of the room very quickly, taking good care, however, to lock and bolt the door behind him.
The night came; Jet could no longer distinguish objects from the window, and the room was so dark that it was impossible to see his way around.
Crouching close by the window Jet heard the heavy tramp as the men came upstairs, and by the noises he knew they had entered the apartment adjoining his prison.
The hum of conversation came through the rough partition quite distinctly, and in a short time this was followed by a heavy thumping sound at regular intervals.
It was as if the men were pounding with a wooden mallet, except that the blows were fully thirty seconds apart.
Jet tried to guess what they were doing; but the effort was in vain.
"What's the use bothering about them," he said, finally, to himself. "So long as they stay where they are, and don't trouble me, I haven't much right to complain, though a fellow would find it mighty hard work to sleep in such a racket."
It was time to make his explorations if he proposed doing so before morning, and he arose to his feet.
By the aid of the window bars it was not a difficult matter for one as agile as he to clamber to the rafters above, and once there the remainder of the task was comparatively simple.
Hanging by one arm to the beams, with his disengaged hand he pulled away the loose timbers and boards from above until a passage was made for his body.
Then raising himself by both hands he was soon standing where he could touch the roof of the building; but unable to see his surroundings because of the intense darkness.
"I don't see that I am much better off up here," he muttered, grimly, as he walked cautiously along without any very good idea of what he expected to find.
Just then a twinkling star was seen, and he discovered that one of the roof-boards was badly rotted.
Now, there was something tangible in the way of escape, and he eagerly began to tear away the decayed wood, laying the pieces gently on the flooring, until there was an aperture sufficiently large to admit of his passing through.
An instant later he was seated astride the ridge-pole, looking down into the yard where the ferocious dogs were running wildly to and fro as if having already scented their prey.
Now indeed was Jet at a loss to know what to do.
Even if the animals had not been below he would have hesitated to leap from the roof of the building lest he should strike upon the barricade of cord-wood with which the house was surrounded.
He must go down regardless of the many dangers, or return to the room where the men could murder him whenever they felt so disposed, and after a few second's reflection he chose the former course.
"There is one chance of getting away from the dogs, an' no show whatever that I'll ever leave here alive unless I go now," he said, to himself.
Clutching at the rough boards literally with his finger-nails, he slid slowly down toward the edge of the roof at a point farthest from the stable.
He could see the wall of wood directly beneath him, and hear the low growling of the dogs as they sniffed the air to discover the cause of the sounds which had aroused their suspicions.
To remain very long deliberating would be to run the risk of the animals giving an alarm, and Jet gathered himself for a spring.
Putting forth all his strength in order to clear the obstacle, he leaped.
The ends of the cord-wood just grazed his clothing as he passed over them, and Jet struck the soft ground, which gave forth no warning sound to those who were in the building, on that side of the clearing where the trees were nearest.
He was unhurt, although badly shaken up, and would have started at full speed to gain the partial shelter of the forest, but for the fact that just then a heavy body leaped over the barricade.
It was one of the dogs, and Jet knew he must now fight desperately if he would live.
A stick of wood about as thick as his wrist was the first weapon which came to his hand as he clutched at the top of the pile to draw himself up, and with this he awaited in silence the onset.