home. It was a square, unpainted house, discolored by time, and looked
far from attractive. There were no outward signs of occupation, and
everything about it appeared to have fallen into decay. Not far off was
a barn, looking even more dilapidated than the house.

At the front door, instead of knocking--there was no bell--Graves drew
a rusty key from his pocket and inserted it in the lock. They found
themselves in a small entry, uncarpeted and dingy.

"We'll go upstairs," said Graves.

Arrived on the landing, he threw open a door, and ushered in our hero.

"This will be your room," he said.

Frank looked around in dismay.

It was a large, square room, uncarpeted, and containing only a bed, two
chairs and a washstand, all of the cheapest and rudest manufacture.

"I hope you will soon feel at home here," said Graves. "I'll go down and
see if I can find something to eat."

He went out, locking the door behind him

"What does this mean?" thought Frank, with a strange sensation.

CHAPTER XVII

FRANK AND HIS JAILER

It was twenty minutes before Frank, waiting impatiently, heard the steps
of his late companion ascending the stairs.

But the door was not unlocked. Instead, a slide was revealed, about
eight inches square, through which his late traveling companion pushed a
plate of cold meat and bread.

"Here's something to eat," he said; "take it."

"Why do you lock me in?" demanded our hero.

"You can get along without knowing, I suppose," said the other, with a
sneer.

"I don't mean to," said Frank, firmly. "I demand an explanation. How
long do you intend to keep me here?"

"I am sorry I can't gratify your curiosity, but I don't know myself."

"Perhaps you think that I am rich, but I am not. I have no money. You
can't get anything out of me," said Frank.

"That may be so, but I shall keep you."

"I suppose that was all a lie about your keeping store?"

"It was a pretty little story, told for your amusement, my dear boy,"
said Graves. "I was afraid you wouldn't come without it."

"You are a villain!" said Frank.

"Look here, boy," said Graves, in a different tone, his face darkening,
"you had better not talk in that way. I advise you to eat your dinner
and be quiet. Some supper will be brought to you before night."

So saying, he abruptly closed the slide, and descended the stairs,
leaving Frank to his reflections, which it may be supposed, were not of
the pleasantest character.

Frank d