ne a
greater one to another person," said the stranger.

"Who's that?" asked Dory, puzzled by the strange speech of his
companion.

"I mean the one who fired the gun at me," answered his fellow-traveller.

"That's funny!" exclaimed Dory. "You and he seem to be fooling with each
other. He shot at you, and didn't mean to hit you; and now I have done
him a great service. I suppose you don't mean to pay me for the service
I did him," laughed Dory.

"I should be willing to pay you more for what you did for him than for
what you did for me."

Dory was bewildered.

CHAPTER III.

A BRILLIANT SCHEME MADE POSSIBLE.

Dory began to think his companion was a lunatic. Certainly he was a
Christian man, for he seemed to have nothing but kindness in his heart
towards his late assailant.

"I don't want any pay for what I did for either," said Dory Dornwood, as
he saw his companion thrust his hand into his pocket, and he feared that
his joke had been taken in earnest.

"We will talk about that when we get to Plattsburgh. Will you tell me
your name, young man?"

"My name is Theodore Dornwood, though almost everybody calls me Dory.
But I don't care what they call me, if they don't call me too late to
supper, or don't call me at all, as nobody did to-night," replied Dory.
And an emphatic wrenching at his stomach, just at the moment he spoke,
compelled him to repeat that ancient witticism.

"You have had no supper, Dory?" demanded his new friend, with much
sympathy in his tones.

"Not a bit, and not much dinner," added Dory. "Major Billcord spoiled my
dinner. And I dare say he charges me with spoiling his dinner: but I
didn't; it was the cook."

The curiosity of his companion was excited, and Dory told the whole
story of his experience as a waiter at dinner that day. In answering the
questions of the stranger, he told the history of himself and his
family. He enlarged upon his efforts to obtain a situation, and declared
that he wanted to do something to help his mother, and make things
easier for her.

Just as he was finishing his narrative, they reached the front of a
farmhouse. The stranger led the way to the door, and knocked. Presently
the door was opened by a man with a lamp in his hand. Dory wondered what
his companion wanted there; for he had not spoken of making a call on
the way to the town.

"Ah! is that you, Basil Hawlinshed?" said the occupant of the house, as
the light from his lamp fell upon the fa