nd the rickety stairs, every step of which creaked as he trod upon it.

Arriving at the top floor, the youth noticed a shaft of light streaming
from beneath a door in the rear. He knocked loudly.

There was a movement within, the door was flung back, and Jerry found
himself confronted by a tall, round-shouldered individual, with long,
unkempt hair and a wild look in his small black eyes.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE LITTLE NOBODY.

"Well!" demanded the man laconically.

"Is this James MacHenry?"

"That's me, boy."

"I would like to see you on business," Jerry went on, as he brushed past
and entered one of the barest living apartments he had ever seen.

"On business?"

"Yes, a few days ago you picked up a packet downtown belonging to me--a
packet containing some documents and letters."

"Who said they belonged to you?"

"I say so. My name is Jerry Upton, and I dropped the packet in the
alleyway where you found it."

The man stared at our hero.

"Say, is this a game?" he demanded, harshly.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you trying to get me into trouble?"

"No, I am trying to keep you out of trouble," replied the young oarsman,
warmly.

"You say that packet belonged to you?"

"Yes."

"It didn't have your name on it."

"No, it--" Our hero stopped short. "It had Alexander Slocum's name on it!"
he burst out.

"Exactly."

"You don't mean to say you delivered that packet to him?" gasped the
youth.

"I did--not an hour ago."

Jerry fell back into a chair and breathed heavily. The packet was
gone--into the hands of the enemy!

"The man said it was his package," said Crazy Jim. "He gave me a reward of
five dollars for returning it to him."

"It was mine. He wanted to steal it--and now he's done it," cried Jerry.
"You let him have it but an hour ago?"

"Yes."

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know."

"Did you open the packet?"

"Yes, but I couldn't make nothing out of it--'cos I ain't eddicated. I
read his name on it and got another fellow to write a postal card
yesterday afternoon. He came here, examined the papers, and seemed much
pleased."

"No doubt he was pleased," groaned the young oarsman.

"Was the thing worth much?"

"It was worth a good deal. I would have given five dollars to get it
back."

"What does he want with it?"

"Wants to do my father out of some property," answered our hero. "By the
way, who is that little girl who lives with you?"

At this question Crazy Jim's f