sand miles--
Dodger felt at a loss how to act.

Even if Mr. Linden was informed that his nephew had a wife living in
San Francisco, the statement would no doubt be denied by Curtis, who
would brand the woman as an impudent adventuress.

"The absent are always in the wrong," says a French proverb.

At all events, they are very much at a disadvantage, and therefore it
seemed imperatively necessary, not only that Dodger, but that Curtis
Waring's wife should go to New York to confront the unprincipled man
whose schemes had brought sorrow to so many.

It was easy to decide what plan was best, but how to carry it out
presented a difficulty which seemed insurmountable.

The expenses of a journey to New York for Dodger, Mrs. Waring and her
child would not be very far from five hundred dollars, and where to
obtain this money was a problem.

Randolph Leslie probably had that sum, but Dodger could not in
conscience ask him to lend it, being unable to furnish adequate
security, or to insure repayment.

"If I could only find a nugget," thought Dodger, knitting his brows,
"everything would be easy." But nuggets are rare enough in the gold
fields, and still rarer in city streets.

He who trusts wholly to luck trusts to a will-o'-the-wisp, and is
about as sure of success as one who owns a castle in Spain.

The time might come when Dodger, by his own efforts, could accumulate
the needed sum, but it would require a year at least, and in that time
Mr. Linden would probably be dead.

Absorbed and disturbed by these reflections, Dodger walked slowly
through the darkened streets till he heard a stifled cry, and looking
up, beheld a sight that startled him.

On the sidewalk lay the prostrate figure of a man. Over him, bludgeon
in hand, bent a ruffian, whose purpose was only too clearly evident.

Chapter XXXIV.
Just In Time.

Dodger, who was a strong, stout boy, gathered himself up and dashed
against the ruffian with such impetuosity that he fell over his
intended victim, and his bludgeon fell from his hand.

It was the work of an instant to lift it, and raise it in a menacing
position.

The discomfited villain broke into a volley of oaths, and proceeded to
pick himself up.

He was a brutal-looking fellow, but was no larger than Dodger, who was
as tall as the majority of men.

"Give me that stick," he exclaimed, furiously.

"Come and take it," returned Dodger, undaunted.

The fellow took him at his word, and m