young friend," he said,
softly; "but there is one thing certain; if you didn't know it before
you know it now."

"And you are afraid that I shall denounce you to the police."

"Well, there is a possibility of that. That class of people have a
little prejudice against us, though we are only doing what everybody
wants to do, _making money_."

The old man chuckled and rubbed his hands at this joke, which he
evidently considered a remarkably good one.

Jack reflected a moment.

"Will you let me go if I will promise to keep your secret?" he asked.

"How could I be sure you would do it?"

"I would pledge my word."

"Your word!" Foley snapped his fingers in derision. "That is not
sufficient."

"What will be?"

"You must become one of us."

"One of you!"

Jack started in surprise at a proposition so unexpected.

"Yes. You must make yourself liable to the same penalties, so that it
will be for your own interest to keep silent. Otherwise we cannot trust
you."

"And suppose I decline these terms," said Jack.

"Then I shall be under the painful necessity of retaining you as my
guest."

Foley smiled disagreeably.

Jack walked the room in perturbation. He felt that imprisonment would be
better than liberty, on such terms. At the same time he did not refuse
unequivocally, as possibly stricter watch than ever might be kept over
him.

He thought it best to temporize.

"Well, what do you say?" asked the old man.

"I should like to take time to reflect upon your proposal," said Jack.
"It is of so important a character that I do not like to decide at
once."

"How long do you require?"

"Two days," returned Jack. "If I should come to a decision sooner, I
will let you know."

"Agreed. Meanwhile can I do anything to promote your comfort? I want you
to enjoy yourself as well as you can under the circumstances."

"If you have any interesting books, I wish you would send them up. It is
rather dull staying here with nothing to do."

"You shall have something to do as soon as you please, my young friend.
As to books, we are not very bountifully supplied with that article. We
ain't any of us college graduates, but I will see what I can do for you
in that way. I'll be back directly."

Foley disappeared, but soon after returned, laden with one or two old
magazines, and a worn copy of the "Adventures of Baron Trenck."

It may be that the reader has never encountered a copy of this singular
book. Baron Trenck was