ll?"

It was only a few paces from where they were standing. Wyndham led the
way.

"I'll let you down a little way; then draw you up again directly the men
have gone--that is to say, if they should come this way."

"They are coming this way. I feel sure of it, and there's no time to
lose."

"Here you are, then. Keep steady, and don't make a sound. They won't
think of you stowed away down there."

Paul got into the bucket. The chain was somewhat rusty, but though it
was the worse for disuse, and creaked as it was lowered, it held firm.
When Wyndham had lowered Paul a short distance, he made firm the chain;
so that he was suspended half-way between the water and the top. It
wasn't a very pleasant situation. A dank smell came from below, and it
seemed the abode of darkness as the boy above shut out the last remnant
of light by placing the cover a little way over the well.

Not a moment too soon, for he had only just finished when a man darted
up to him and seized him by the collar.

"Ha! Got you at last, have I? A nice chase you've led us."

"What's the matter? That's my collar when you've done with it. Drop it,
please!"

"Hand over that paper."

"What paper?"

"The paper you're taking to Redmead. Quick--out with it!"

Wyndham, though he did not appreciate the man's grip on his collar, was
enjoying the joke. He could see what had happened. The man had mistaken
him for "that Garside fellow" down the well.

"I would like to oblige you, but I really don't know what you're talking
about. I haven't any paper."

By this time the second man had arrived on the scene. His sharp, ferrety
eyes, which--like the eyes of a cat--seemed capable of seeing in the
darkness, immediately went to Wyndham's face.

"Hi, Brockman! Hi! What are you doing? You have got hold of the wrong
boy!"

"The wrong boy!" exclaimed the man addressed as Brockman. "Are you
sure?"

"Certain! Where are your eyes?"

"They're not quite so sharp as yours, Mr. Zuker, I know; but I made sure
I'd tracked the youngster here."

Paul could hear distinctly every word that passed from his uncomfortable
position down the well. As the name Zuker fell upon his ears he trembled
so that he nearly over-balanced himself and fell into the water below.
It was not with fear. Zuker! That name was one he was never likely to
forget so long as memory lasted. It was the name of the man for whom his
poor father had sacrificed his life!

Could it be the same? It wa