ner
cellar was for the time a diminutive bedlam. Our young hero,
nevertheless, slept on and on, unconscious of this racket.

After a while the rats grew bolder. Their curiosity became greater,
and then they began to investigate more carefully the state of things
within the prison cell, and at length their attention was turned to the
quiet sleeper.

Well bred rats are always cautious, and therefore are somewhat
respectful, but the drove at old Gunwagner's did not show this desirable
trait. In fact they were not unlike the old fence himself--daring,
avaricious and discourteous. No better proof of this could be instanced
than their disreputable treatment of our young hero.

Rats, as a rule, show a special fondness for leather. Undoubtedly it is
palatable to them. But this fact would not justify them in the attempt
they made to appropriate to themselves Herbert's boots. The propriety of
such an act was most questionable, and no well mannered rats would have
allowed themselves to become a party to such a raid. But as a matter of
fact, and as Herbert learned to his sorrow, there were no well mannered
rats at old Gunwagner's--none but a thieving, quarrelsome lot.

After a council of war had been held, and a great amount of
reconnoitering had been done, it was decided that these rural boots
could not be removed from their rightful owner in their present shape;
therefore they fell vigorously to work to reduce them to a more movable
condition.

When Herbert fell asleep, he was sitting on a bench with his feet upon
the floor. He was still in this position, with his head resting in his
hand, and his elbow supported by the side of his prison cell, when the
rats made war on his boots. They gnawed and chipped away at them at a
lively rate, and in a little time the uppers were entirely destroyed.
The cotton linings, to be sure, were still intact, as these they did not
trouble. Evidently cotton cloth was not a tempting diet for them.

Up to this time Herbert had not moved a muscle since he fell asleep,
but now a troubled dream or something else, I know not what, disturbed
him. Possibly it was the continued gnawing on his already shattered
boots. It might, however, have been the fear of these dreadful rats, or
the repulsive image of old Gunwagner, that haunted him and broke the
soundness of his slumbers.

Presently he opened his eyes, drowsily, and his first half waking
impression was the peculiar sensation at his feet. In anothe