That he was imprudent in trusting himself on the American side Mr. Grant Palmer was well aware, but he felt that he was in danger of losing the entire proceeds of his skilful burglary, and to this he could not make up his mind. Besides the danger was not very great. Why should any one suppose that an ordinary valise contained stolen property? There was nothing remarkable about the appearance of his hand-bag. Hundreds of them are carried every day. If it were opened by a dishonest person, of course it would be doubtful if he ever got it back, but the clerk at the Clifton had said that this Mr. Lawrence seemed like a high-toned gentleman, who would of course scorn to avail himself of property not his own.
"Risk or no risk!" decided Palmer, "I must go over and reclaim my property."
Leaving him to cross to the American side, we will follow Mr. Lawrence, who, not at all suspecting that the valise he had received from the clerk was not his own, repaired to the International Hotel and engaged one of the best rooms in the house, for he was a man of ample means. He laid his valise on the bed and went down-stairs. Later in the day he went out to take his customary walk.
Meanwhile Fred and his two companions walked about in a leisurely manner, surveying the Falls from different points, and finally went to Goat Island. Here they sat down on a bench and surrendered themselves to the fascinations of the scene.
"Well, what do you think of Niagara, Fred?" asked Frank.
"It is even finer than I had supposed," replied the train boy.
"Some people are disappointed," said Mr. Ferguson, "because they expect too much. The Falls of Montmorency are considerably higher but not nearly as wide. There are some cascades in the Yosemite Valley of over a thousand feet descent, but they are only a few feet wide. For grandeur Niagara excels them all."
"I shouldn't like to be swept over the Falls," said Fred.
"It must be terrible!" said Frank, with a shudder.
"The reality is worse than any picture drawn by the imagination. Ten years since it happened to me to see a poor wretch drawn down to destruction over the cataract."
The boys looked eager for the story, and he proceeded.
"I may state," continued the detective, "that I was indirectly the cause of the tragedy. A defaulting bank cashier had got as far as this point on his way to Canada, which as now was a haven of refuge to gentlemen of his character. I was close upon his track, and he was in imminent danger of capture. There seemed to be only one way of escape—crossing the river above the Falls. By some means he obtained a row-boat, and being a fair rower set out on his dangerous trip, exulting in having outwitted me and made his escape. I remember very well how he stood up in the boat, and with a smile on his face waved me a mock adieu, as he impelled the little craft out toward the middle of the river.
"He was a strong, sturdy rower, but he had no conception of the strength and rapidity of the current. He battled manfully, but the boat immediately began to tend towards the cataract with continually increasing rapidity. At length he came to realize the fate that certainly awaited him. His smile was succeeded by a look of despair. I can see even now the expression of terror and desperation, formed upon the poor fellow's face when he saw that, struggle as he might, there was no help or deliverance, I am sure at that time he would have welcomed me as a friend and savior, and gone with me willingly to prison, if only he could have been rescued from the impending doom. Still, however, he plied the oars with desperate vigor and would not resign himself to his fate. I was painfully excited, and in the poor fellow's peril quite forgot that he was a criminal of whom I was in pursuit. The end came speedily. When six feet from the edge of the cataract, he dropped his oars, threw up his hands, and an instant later boat and man were swept down into the gulf below."
"Was his body ever found?" asked Fred.
"Yes, but it was so mangled as to be almost beyond recognition. Many a time when looking at the Falls I have pictured to myself the unhappy victim of that day's tragedy."
"I suppose," said Frank, "it is impossible to go over the cataract and live."
"Not if all stories are to be believed. There is a boy in the village here who is said to have gone over the Falls, and yet he does not seem to have suffered any injury. The same story is told of a cat, but cats are noted for having nine lives, and therefore the story is not so surprising."
After a little more chat the three left the island and returned to the mainland. They had hardly reached it when a telegraph boy approached Mr. Ferguson and handed him a despatch.
He opened it and read as follows:
My nephew, Edmund Lawrence, is at Niagara. Communicate with him.
"This is your business," said the detective, handing the telegram to Fred.
"Let us try to find Mr. Lawrence," said Fred, after reading it.
"It will be the best way. Mr. Carver does not mention at what hotel his nephew is staying."
"Probably he does not know."
"Undoubtedly you are right."
"What will you do?"
"There is only one thing to do to call at the principal hotels, and look over the registers. We will go first to the International."
"Very well, sir."
Ferguson scanned Fred with a smile.
"You certainly don't act like one under suspicion," he said.
Fred smiled in return. "I find it hard to realize that I am a suspected burglar," he responded.
"So do I. Let us hope that you will very soon be cleared from suspicion."
The detective and the two boys turned their steps towards the spacious and attractive International.
"It seems a little ahead of the Lynch House," said Fred, "but probably the prices at the latter suit my pocketbook better."
They stepped on the piazza, and went into the office.
Mr. Ferguson opened the hotel register, and among the recent entries found the name of Edmund Lawrence.
"Is Mr. Lawrence in?" he asked the clerk.
"Yes, sir; he came in from a walk five minutes since."
"I will send up my card."
The detective wrote on a blank card:
Important.
This was handed to a hall boy, who took it up to Mr. Lawrence's room, and returned with a message that the gentleman was to come up at once.
"I think you will have to go with me," said Ferguson to Fred. "It won't do for me to give you a chance to escape."
"That is the last thing I have in mind," said the train-boy; "but I shall be glad to see Mr. Lawrence."
Edmund Lawrence, a pleasant-looking man of middle age, looked somewhat surprised when turning his eyes toward the door, he saw Ferguson enter, followed by two boys.
"You wish to see me on important business?" he said interrogatively.
"Yes, sir."
"And you are a detective?"
"Yes, sir."
"I hope that I have not fallen under any suspicion."
"Not at all. Have you heard that your uncle—Philo Carver, of Elmira—has been the victim of a burglary?"
"No! Tell me about it."
The detective told the story, and Mr. Lawrence listened with great interest.
"Is any one suspected?" he asked.
"A party has been arrested on suspicion," answered the detective.
"Indeed! who is it?"
"This boy!" answered Ferguson, pointing to Fred.
"Impossible!" ejaculated Lawrence, eying Fred with incredulous amazement.
"Nevertheless it is true. I arrested him at the Lynch House this morning," affirmed the detective.
"Do you believe him guilty?" asked Mr. Lawrence, noting with perplexity Fred's open countenance and tranquil manner.
"No. Still, circumstances are against him."
"Please explain."
"I found your uncle's gold watch and chain in his bundle?"
"Is it possible?"
"It is quite true, Mr. Lawrence," said Fred calmly. "Mr. Ferguson will allow me to say that I was as much surprised as he to find them. The bundle was a small one and only contained a shirt and collar which I bought at Jersey City yesterday morning. I can only say that the watch was not in the bundle then."
"Perhaps," said Lawrence, who was favorably impressed by Fred's openness, "you have some theory as to the manner in which the watch got into your bag."
"Yes, sir, I have. I had for a room-mate a stranger—a man whom I only met last evening after the train arrived. We fell in with each other the way to the hotel. We were obliged to room together on account of there being but one room vacant at the hotel."
"What was the man's appearance?"
"He was rather tall, thin, and dark complexioned. Though it was late he did not go to bed at once, but sat up for a while finishing a book in which he was interested. When I awoke in the morning he was gone."
"You think he was the real burglar?"
"Yes, sir."
"What is your reason?"
"Because it must have been he that put the watch and chain in my bundle."
"With a view of diverting suspicion from himself?"
"Yes, sir."
"One question more. When were you in Elmira, last?"
"I was never in Elmira at all," said Fred promptly. "I have never been so far West before."
"What was your object in making your present journey?"
"I came to make money," answered Fred, smiling.
"That answer may go against you," said the detective.
"Not when I explain that I am the train boy. I have usually made short runs, but yesterday morning the superintendent told me I was to go to Niagara, and gave me permission to stay over Sunday to have a chance to see the Falls. I began to think I would not see them, after all, but Mr. Ferguson was kind enough to walk out with me, and let me have a view of them."
"Is this boy also a train boy?" asked Lawrence, indicating Frank Hamblin.
"No; he is related to the clerk of the Lynch House, and was kind enough to come up to my room and keep me company."
"Who has the watch?" asked Lawrence, after a pause. "I have," answered the detective, producing it. Lawrence took it from his hand.
"It is my uncle's watch, sure enough," he said. "I remember it a dozen years since. He sent to Europe for it."
"His name is in it," said Ferguson. "But for that I might not have recognized it as one of the articles lost."
"Do you know what was taken besides?"
"Money and securities, I am informed, but to what value I have not learned."
"You think the boy's room-mate has them in his possession?"
"There seems to be little doubt of it."
"Where do you think he is?"
"On the Canada side, no doubt."
"He went there this morning?"
"Yes."
"I was myself at the Clifton House this morning, and I now remember the arrival of a man presenting the appearance of this young fellow's room-mate. He is probably still at the Clifton House."
"Then he is beyond my jurisdiction," said Ferguson.
"Do you remember what luggage he had?" asked Lawrence, turning to Fred.
"He had a small valise, about the size of this," said Fred, his eyes resting on the satchel which Lawrence had brought from the Clifton, and thrown down carelessly. "Why," continued Fred, in excitement, "this is his valise. I recognize it by a dark spot on the side."
"What do you mean?" said Lawrence sharply. "This is my valise."
He took it in his hand, and uttered an ejaculation.
"The boy is right! This is not my valise."
"Do you mean to say this valise belongs to the man who roomed with you last night?" demanded die detective.
"Yes, I feel sure of it."
"Then—good Heavens!—it no doubt contains the property stolen from my uncle. Mr. Ferguson, shall we be justified in opening it?"
"I will take the responsibility," said the detective.
He took from his pocket a bent wire, and dexterously inserting it in the lock opened the valise.
All gathered eagerly about it, anxious to ascertain whether their suspicions were correct.
There were a few articles of underwear, which the detective took out hastily and laid upon the bed.
"Ha, here we have it!" he exclaimed triumphantly as he drew out two long envelopes, such as are employed for bonds and securities. "I will take the liberty to open them."
One envelope proved to contain two one thousand dollar railroad bonds. The other contained two U. S. Government bonds of five hundred dollars each, and miscellaneous securities all together amounting to three thousand dollars more.
"A very clever capture on my word!" said Ferguson. "Really, Mr. Lawrence, you have beaten me in my own line."
"I am entitled to no credit. It belongs to the boy who identified the valise. I assure you the wrong bag was given me at the Clifton most fortunately. I am content to lose the few articles which my own contained for the sake of recovering my uncle's property. It really seems like an interposition of Providence."
"I suspect the thief will feel very ill-satisfied with the exchange. I wonder what he will do about it."
There was little chance for speculation on this point. There was a knock at the door, and a hall boy put in his head.
"There is a gentleman below who wishes to see you, Mr. Lawrence," he said. "Here is his card."
Mr. Lawrence took from his hand a card on which had been written the name
"That is the man, Mr. Lawrence," exclaimed Fred in excitement. "He has come for his valise."
"Bring Mr. Palmer up in about five minutes," said Lawrence; "not sooner."
"All right, sir!"
"Now let us repack the valise," said the detective. "I always carry a large bunch of keys with me, and shall probably find one that will relock it."
The shirts, socks, and other articles which had been taken from the bag were carefully replaced, and Ferguson, as he had thought probable, found a key which fitted the lock. Then the valise was laid carefully on the sofa.
"Mr. Palmer must not see us, and particularly the train-boy," said the detective, "or he will think something is up. Where can you conceal us?"
"There is a bedroom attached to the apartment," said Lawrence. "Go in there, all of you, and remain till I call you. You can leave the door ajar, as you will probably be curious to hear what goes on between us."
"Capital! Couldn't be better!"
Ferguson, followed by the two boys, entered the smaller room, and waited impatiently for the entrance of Palmer.
A knock was heard.
"Come in!" Lawrence called out lazily.
The door opened, and F. Grant Palmer entered, carrying in his hand a valise which seemed to be a fac-simile of the one lying on the sofa. Palmer's quick eye caught sight of it as he entered the room.
"Pardon me for my intrusion!" he said suavely, "but I believe we exchanged valises—at the Clifton—this morning."
"Indeed!" said Lawrence, in assumed surprise.
"Yes, mine was left with the clerk."
"And mine also."
"And he doubtless made a mistake in delivering them. Upon my word I am not surprised, as they certainly are very much alike."
"So they are!" said Lawrence, taking the valise from Palmer's hand. "And here is your name too."
"It is quite a joke, ha, ha!" laughed Palmer, his spirits rising as he saw that there would be no difficulty in effecting the exchange. "I suppose I may take mine?"
"You are quite sure it is yours? Pardon my asking, but you are a stranger to me."
"Oh, it's all right! You see this spot on my valise. Outside of that, there is really no difference."
"You are willing to swear that valise I brought over from the Clifton is yours?"
"Why, of course!" returned Palmer in surprise. "How can there be a doubt after what I have said?"
"You will pardon my caution. It certainly does seem like it, but I don't want to run any risk of giving it to the wrong party."
"Oh, that's all right!" said Palmer impatiently, setting down Lawrence in his own mind as a crank.
"Probably you have the key that opens it."
"Certainly."
"Then do you mind opening it, and satisfying yourself and me that it really belongs to you?"
"Surely not," said Palmer, really glad of an opportunity of satisfying himself that the bonds were safe.
He drew from his pocket a bunch of keys, and carefully selecting one inserted it in the lock of the valise. It opened at once, and Palmer eagerly scanned the contents. The under-clothing had been carefully replaced, and he did not discover that it had been disturbed, but when he lifted it to look for the envelopes containing the bonds, his face underwent a change.
"What is the matter?" inquired Lawrence, calmly.
"That valise has been opened," said Palmer, angrily.
"What makes you think so?"
"The most valuable contents have been removed. I hold you accountable for this, Mr. Lawrence," continued Palmer, fiercely.
"Please be a little more explicit. What is it that you miss?"
"Two envelopes, containing valuable bonds."
"This is a serious charge. Are you sure they were in the valise?"
"Of course I am. I put them there myself, and when I opened the valise this morning they were there."
"Wasn't it rash in you to leave articles of such value in your valise? Can you name any of the bonds?"
"Yes; there were two Erie mortgage bonds of a thousand dollars each, two government bonds of five hundred dollars each, some bank bills, and miscellaneous securities."
"You don't mean it? And you placed them there?"
"I did, and I am willing to swear to the statement. I demand of you, sir, where they are."
Mr. Lawrence rose from his seat, and on pretense of examining the contents of the open valise, managed to get in between Palmer and the door.
"A man in my employ had charge of the valise for a short time," he said. "He may have opened it."
"Where is he? He must be arrested before he can get away," said Palmer in excitement.
"Ferguson!" called Mr. Lawrence.
The detective, who had of course heard all that had passed, stepped out from the inner room. He assumed the tone of a servant.
"Did you call, sir?" he asked.
"Yes."
"I am at your service."
"This gentleman here claims the valise as his property. He says that some bonds have been abstracted from it. Am I right?"
"Yes," assented Palmer, with a fierce glance at the detective.
"He charges me with having opened the valise, and taken them."
"What does he say to that?" demanded Palmer in excitement.
"It is true," said Ferguson, calmly.
"You hear?" said Palmer. "Give me back those bonds, you scoundrel, and I may let you go free. Otherwise I will have you arrested, and you can guess what will follow. Don't let the fellow escape!" he added quickly, as the detective edged towards the door.
Lawrence upon this went to the door and locked it.
"What have you to say for yourself?" he demanded, turning to Ferguson.
"Only that I am a detective, and that I am specially deputed to search for and recover the bonds stolen from Philo Carver of Elmira, yesterday afternoon. I have reason to think I have found them."
"Duped!" exclaimed Palmer, sinking into a chair in dismay.
"Yes, Mr. Palmer, it looks like it. There is one article missing, a gold watch and chain."
"I don't know anything about them."
"We may find some one who does. Fred!"
At the summons the train boy stepped out from the inner room, followed by Frank Hamblin.
At sight of his late room-mate Palmer first showed surprise, and then anger.
"Did you put up this job on me?" he asked fiercely.
"It seems that you put up a job on me," said Fred, quietly. "The watch was found in my bundle."
"Yes, that was to be your share," answered Palmer maliciously. "Gentlemen, I suppose I shall have to surrender at discretion, but I am not the only guilty party. That boy is my confederate!"
"It is an outrageous falsehood!" burst out Fred indignantly.
"It is of no use your denying it. I am convinced that you have betrayed me, and I will have no mercy on you. Gentlemen, arrest me if you think best, but arrest him too. He is just as guilty as I am."
"You assert that he is your confederate?" said Lawrence.
"Yes."
"How long have you known him?"
"Ever since he was born. His mother was a cousin of mine," Palmer asserted unblushingly.
"Do you believe this, Mr. Ferguson?" asked Fred, quite overwhelmed. "I never saw this man till last evening."
"If he is your cousin, what is his name?" asked the detective, not answering Fred's appeal.
"Fred Fenton," said Palmer coolly.
"He has got my name right, but he saw it in the hotel register," said Fred.
"I presume you are right," said Ferguson.
"You seem interested in my young cousin," said Palmer with a malicious sneer.
"Do you mean to say that he was with you in Elmira?" asked Lawrence.
"Yes; he stood outside to warn me if any one came along, who was likely to interfere with me."
"And you both took the train for Niagara after the burglary was effected?"
"Exactly."
Lawrence was staggered by the positive assertions of the culprit. It must be considered that he was not acquainted with Fred, who, so far as he knew, might be an artful young adventurer.
"Why didn't you take the boy over to the Canada side with you?"
"It was understood that he was to come over later in the day. We passed for strangers at the Lynch House, and I thought it might excite suspicion if we both went away together at so early an hour in the morning."
"Mr. Palmer," said Fred warmly, "you know perfectly well that all these statements are false, and that I never met you or had anything to do with you till last evening."
"It won't do, Fred!" said the burglar. "You and I are in the same boat. You are a boy, and will probably get a lighter sentence than I. But you shouldn't go back on your old pal like this."
"Do you believe that man, Mr. Ferguson?" asked Fred with a troubled look.
"No, but I shall be obliged to hold you till I produce him in court to-morrow."
Ferguson produced a pair of handcuffs and pinioned the wrists of his captive. Palmer protested against the humiliation, but Ferguson said quietly: "You are too important a prisoner for me to run any risk."
"Are you going to handcuffhim?" asked the burglar, indicating Fred.
"No."
"Why not? Why should you treat him better than me?"
"I don't think he is guilty; but even if he is I am not afraid of his running away."
"You are deceived in him. He looks innocent enough, but he has been concerned in a dozen burglaries."
"I hear considerable news about myself," said Fred, "but the truth will come out at last."
As the party passed through the streets they naturally attracted considerable attention. Though a criminal, Palmer had for years evaded arrest, and he felt mortified at the position in which he was placed. He reflected bitterly that but for the mistake of the hotel clerk, he might be at ease with his booty on the Canada side. As it was, things seemed to have worked steadily against him, notwithstanding his clever schemes. A long term of imprisonment stared him in the face, instead of a couple of years of luxury on which he had counted. If he could only involve Fred in his own misfortune it would be partial satisfaction. To effect this he was prepared to swear to anything and everything.
Fred, though only nominally a prisoner, felt very uncomfortable. He was saved from the disgrace of being handcuffed, and was consoled by knowing that not even the detective believed him guilty of any connection with the burglary. Still he was not his own master, to come and go as he pleased, and it was not certain that he would be able to go back to New York the next day as he had planned. Circumstances thus far had worked against him, but there was to be a turn in the tide. As they walked through the streets on the way to the station house, where Palmer was to be locked up for safekeeping, they met a man whose dress showed him to be an employee of the Erie road.
"Mr. Ferguson," said Fred eagerly, "that is the conductor of one of my trains. He will tell you that I am the train-boy."
The conductor had just discovered and recognized Fred.
"You are staying over, like me," he said.
"Yes, I have permission."
"And so have I. I have a brother living here, and got two days off. Where are you stopping?"
"At the Lynch House. Will you tell this gentleman that I am an Erie train boy?"
"Certainly; but why is that necessary?" asked the conductor in surprise.
"I will tell you later. Mr. Ferguson, have you any questions to ask?"
"Was this boy on your train yesterday?"
"Yes."
"Did he get on at Elmira?"
"Certainly not. He came all the way from New York."
"It is false!" said Palmer.
"What does he mean, Fred?" asked the conductor.
"He committed a burglary at Elmira yesterday afternoon, and is trying to make out that I was connected with it."
"There he tells a falsehood," said the conductor bluntly. "I saw you on the train through the entire journey."
"A very good alibi, Fred," said the detective. "Mr. Lawrence, after this testimony it is hardly necessary for me to hold the boy. Are you satisfied that I should let him go free?"
"Entirely so. I felt from the first that he was innocent."
"Then, Fred, you may consider yourself at liberty to go where you please. I am as glad as you are that you are freed from suspicion."
"Thank you, sir. I will go with you as far as the lock-up."
Palmer scowled at him, but saw that it was useless to persist in his charges against the boy, and walked on with head bent, reflecting bitterly that he had not only lost the proceeds of the burglary, but his freedom besides. He could see now that but for his secreting the stolen watch and chain in Fred's bundle, he would probably have escaped scot free. As for the present, at least, we shall have nothing more to do with F. Grant Palmer, it may be briefly set down that after a speedy trial he was found guilty by the jury without leaving their seats. He was sentenced to seven years' imprisonment, and is now serving out his term at Auburn.
Daring the remainder of his stay at Niagara, Fred used his time to advantage, and it was with a thankful heart that he took his place on the through train to New York the next morning. Just before starting, Mr. Lawrence appeared on the platform, and handed him a small package covered with brown paper.
"Have you a pocket where this will be safe?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Then put it away, and open it when you arrive home."
"Thank you, sir."
Fred's attention was taken up by his duties as train boy, and he gave no thought to the package, though he wondered at the moment what it contained.
The train left at 8:43, and was not due in Jersey City till 10:10 P.M. At Port Jervis a young lady came on board dressed in a very plain and quiet manner. In his rounds through the train Fred stopped at her seat with a pile of recent novels under his arm and asked her to buy.
"No, thank you," she answered courteously, and Fred observed that her face was very sad. If she had been dressed in mourning, he would have supposed that she had lost a near relative, but there was nothing in her dress to justify such a supposition. Being naturally sympathetic, Fred from time to time glanced at the young lady passenger, wishing it were in his power to lighten her sorrow, whatever it might be.
Sitting next to her was a young lady, handsomely dressed, who was evidently annoyed at the near neighborhood of one whom she considered her social inferior. It chanced to be the only seat unoccupied when the train reached Port Jervis, and the young lady was compelled to avail herself of it. But when she reached the seat she found it occupied by a fat poodle of uncertain temper, belonging to the fashionable young lady.
"May I take this seat?" asked the new arrival.
"Don't you see that it is occupied?" snapped the dog's owner.
"There is no other seat vacant," said the new passenger deprecatingly.
"Then you had better go into the next car." As the young girl stood in the aisle, undecided, Fred, who had heard the entire colloquy, and was naturally indignant, made up his mind to interfere.
"These seats were meant for passengers—not for dogs," he said.
"Boy, you are impertinent!" said the fashionable young lady haughtily.
"Where is the impertinence?" asked Fred composedly. "Do you wish this young lady to stand up in order that your dog may have a seat?"
"I will report you to the railroad company for insolence."
"Just as you like, but I will remove the dog in order to give this young lady a seat."
"Oh, I don't want to make any trouble," said the new arrival.
"Touch my dog if you dare, boy," said the young lady with a flush of anger on her face.
Just then the conductor entered the car, and Fred called him.
"Mr. Collins," he said, "this young lady refuses to remove her dog from the seat to make room for a passenger."
"Is this true, madam?" asked the conductor.
"She can go into the next car."
"Are you paying for two seats?"
"No," snapped the lady.
"I must take your dog into the baggage car. It is against our rules to have them in the regular cars, and they certainly cannot be allowed to keep our passengers from occupying seats."
"Don't you dare to touch my dog!"
"Do you go to Jersey City?"
"Yes."
"Then you can call for the dog there," and in spite of the remonstrance of the dog's owner, and the growling of the poodle, the conductor removed the animal to the baggage car, much to the secret satisfaction of the passengers, who had observed with disgust the selfishness of its owner.
"I am indebted to you for this," said the young lady, with a furious glance at the train boy.
Fred did not think himself called upon to make any answer. The young lady scornfully drew aside her dress to avoid contact with her unwelcome companion, saying audibly, "It is only in America that servant girls are allowed to thrust themselves in the company of their betters."
"I am not a servant girl," said the new passenger, "but even if I were I have paid my fare, and am entitled to a seat."
"Do not address me, girl!" said her seat-mate haughtily.
"I thought your remark was addressed to me."
"I am forced to sit beside you, but I don't care to converse with you."
The other took the hint, and left her undemocratic neighbor to herself.
Fred was naturally a little curious to ascertain the name of the young lady who had made herself so disagreeable. The mystery was solved in a way to surprise him.
On reaching the depot at Jersey City all the passengers left the cars.
The young lady looked about her evidently in search of some one whom she expected to meet her.
Greatly to Fred's surprise, his Cousin Raymond Ferguson turned out to be the party expected.
"Here you are, sis," he said. "Come right along. It is late."
"I can't go yet. My poor little Fido is in the baggage car. They wouldn't let me have him in the car with me. Go and get him, and I will stay here."
"Gracious!" thought Fred, "that must be Cousin Ferguson's daughter Luella. Well, I can't say I am proud of the relationship."
Miss Ferguson waited till her brother returned with the dog, who seemed to be in a bad humor.
"My precious Fido!" exclaimed the young lady, as she embraced the little animal. "Did they put him in the dirty baggage car?" Then, turning to Fred, who stood by, she said spitefully: "It was all your work, you impertinent boy. I have a great mind to report you to the president of the road."
Raymond's attention was directed to Fred by his sister's attack.
"Fred Fenton!" he exclaimed in surprise.
"Yes," answered Fred, amused. "I was not aware that it was your sister and a relative of mine when I took sides against her."
"What does the boy mean?" demanded Miss Ferguson haughtily.
"It is Fred Fenton," explained Raymond deprecatingly.
"Does he claim relationship with me?" asked the young lady, looking disgusted.
"No, Miss Ferguson, I don't claim it, though I believe it exists," said Fred.
"A common train boy!" ejaculated the young lady. "This is altogether too much. Raymond, let us go!"
As they left the station the other young lady passenger who had listened eagerly to the conversation asked in a tone of almost painful excitement, "Is that the daughter of Robert Ferguson?"
"Yes, do you know him?" asked Fred in surprise.
"To my sorrow. When my poor father died Mr. Ferguson was appointed executor and trustee of his estate. It was not large, but we supposed it would amount to ten thousand dollars, and perhaps more. Last week my mother received a letter from him stating that he had satisfied all claims against the estate, and that only seventy-five dollars was left. This leaves us well-nigh penniless."
"Is it possible? Do you suspect that any fraud has been practised upon you?"
"My mother feels sure of it, but what can we do? We are poor, and the poor are always friendless," continued the girl bitterly.
"Have you come to New York to see Mr. Ferguson?"
"Yes; my mother wishes me to ask full particulars, and to appeal to him to do us justice. I fear it will be of no avail, but it is the only thing that we can do."
"Pardon me," said Fred, "but we had better be getting on board the ferry-boat, or we shall have to wait till the next."
"Thank you! I hardly know what I am doing."
Fred accompanied the young lady to the ladies' cabin and sat down beside her.
"Can I be of any service to you?" asked the train boy. "It is late for a young lady to arrive in New York."
"I supposed we should reach the city at nine. That is what a neighbor told me. I hardly know where to go," she added timidly. "Can you recommend a cheap hotel or boarding-house?"
"There would be a difficulty about obtaining admission to either this evening."
"Then what shall I do?" asked the girl, looking distressed.
"I think you had better come home with me for to-night. Our home is a very humble one but mother will take good care of you. To-morrow you can make other arrangements if you desire."
"Oh, how kind you are! I should like nothing better, if you really think your mother would not be annoyed."
Fred smiled.
"She is too kind-hearted for that," he said. "Just wait till you see her, and you won't feel any doubt."
"How fortunate I am to fall in with such a friend! I now see how unwise it was for me to take such a late train."
They walked to the Cortlandt Street station of the Sixth Avenue Elevated Road, and ascended the steps. In spite of her anxieties the young lady felt interested in the novel means of locomotion, and asked a variety of questions of the train boy. At Thirty-Third Street they descended, and walking a short distance up Broadway turned down a side street, and were soon at the door of Fred's modest home.
Mrs. Fenton was sitting up, and had come to feel anxious.
"How long you have been away, Fred!" she said.
"Not quite three days, mother."
"But you were never away before. Bertie and I have missed you very much."
"Mother," said Fred, "you don't see that I have company."
Then, for the first time, the widow observed the young lady.
"Who is it, Fred?" she asked, as a wild and improbable suspicion entered her mind. Could it be that Fred, who was only a boy in years, had contracted a marriage and brought his wife home?
"I shall have to ask the young lady to introduce herself," said Fred.
"My name is Ruth Patton," said the girl timidly. "I hope you will not be angry with your son for bringing me here. I am a stranger in the city, and indeed I did not know that the train arrived so late. Your son told me that it would be difficult to get into any hotel or boarding-house at this hour, and I have ventured to throw myself on your hospitality for to-night."
"You are heartily welcome," said Mrs. Fenton, ready to smile at her first wild suspicion. "Remove your wraps, and in ten minutes I can offer you a cup of tea and some eggs and toast. You will sleep the better for a little supper."
"You are a wise woman, mother," said Fred. "You have guessed what I was longing for."
"Let me help you, Mrs. Fenton," said Ruth, already looking more cheerful.
"Then you may toast the bread," said Mrs. Fenton. "I don't dare to trust Fred. I did once to my sorrow, and the toast turned out to be as black as my shoe."
"I can promise to do better than that. I have plenty of experience."
She set herself to the task, as if she felt quite at home, and soon they were able to sit down to a plain but welcome supper.
"Do you know, mother," said Fred, between mouthfuls, "Luella Ferguson was on the train."
"How did you recognize her? Did she speak to you?"
Fred smiled roguishly.
"She did. Shall I tell you what she said?"
"I should be glad to hear it."
"She said: 'Boy, I will report you to the railroad company for insolence.' She's a sweet girl, Cousin Luella!"
"But you were not really insolent?"
Thereupon Fred told the whole story, and his mother agreed with him that Miss Ferguson's conduct was very selfish and unladylike.
"What's more, mother, Miss Patton tells me that Cousin Ferguson has cheated her mother and herself out of ten thousand dollars. I'll tell you about it to-morrow. It is just striking twelve, and I can hardly keep my eyes open."