the grandson may have been spirited off somewhere. Nothing
more easy, you know. Murder is a risky operation, and John Wade is
respectable, and wouldn't want to run the risk of a halter."

"You may be right. You don't connect this story of yours with the boy
you've brought here, do you?"

"I do," answered Graves, emphatically. "I shouldn't be surprised if this
was the very boy!"

"What makes you think so?"

"First, because there's some resemblance between the boy and the old
man's son, as I remember him. Next, it would explain John Wade's anxiety
to get rid of him. It's my belief that John Wade has recognized in this
boy the baby he got rid of fourteen years ago, and is afraid his uncle
will make the same discovery."

Frank left the crevice through which he had received so much information
in a whirl of new and bewildering thoughts.

"Was it possible," he asked himself, "that he could be the grandson of
Mr. Wharton, his kind benefactor?"

CHAPTER XX

THE ESCAPE

It was eight o'clock the next morning before Frank's breakfast was
brought to him.

"I am sorry you have had to wait," the housekeeper said, as she appeared
at the door with a cup of coffee and a plate of beefsteak and toast, "I
couldn't come up before."

"Have the men gone away?" said Frank.

"Yes."

"Then I have something to tell you. I learned something about myself
last night. I was in the closet, and heard the man who brought me here
talking to another person. May I tell you the story?"

"If you think it will do any good," said the housekeeper, "but I can't
help you if that is what you want."

He told the whole story. As he proceeded, the housekeeper betrayed
increased, almost eager interest, and from time to time asked him
questions in particular as to the personal appearance of John Wade. When
Frank had described him as well as he could, she said, in an excited
manner:

"Yes, it is--it must be the same man."

"The same man!" repeated our hero, in surprise.

"Do you know anything about him?"

"I know that he is a wicked man. I am afraid that I have helped him
carry out his wicked plan, but I did not know it at the time, or I never
would have given my consent."

"I don't understand you," said our hero, puzzled.

"Will you tell me what you mean?"

"Fourteen years ago I was very poor--poor and sick besides. My husband
had died, leaving me nothing but the care of a young infant, whom it was
necessary for me to support beside