release."

As he mentioned the grocer's going to the police station, Foster thought
he noticed the old man tremble, as though in fear, and what the sergeant
had said about Dardus recurred to him, and while he hesitated as to
whether or not he should press the point, Bob's guardian exclaimed:

"I can't go now. There is no one to look after the store. But perhaps I
can go down this evening."

"That would be too late. His case will come up in court this afternoon."

"Well, if it does, the boy'll have to take the consequences. I always
told him he shouldn't linger over delivering his orders. It will be a
good lesson to him."

The incessant repetition of the last words grated on Foster's ears, and,
realizing that he was only wasting time in trying to persuade the
hard-hearted guardian to help his ward, he exclaimed:

"Then you refuse to do anything to assist Bob, do you?"

"Well, I don't know as I would put it exactly that way. I'll see if I
can't do something this evening."

"Well, you may be obliged to leave your store, whether you want to or
not," retorted Foster, and with this enigmatical remark, the very
suggestiveness of which caused an expression of fear to settle on the
face of the grocer, the reporter turned on his heel and left the shop.

CHAPTER III

FREE AGAIN

While Bob's champion, unknown to the boy, was interesting himself in his
cause, Bob was sitting on a little iron bunk his cell contained, staring
about him as though unable to comprehend the situation.

After a few minutes he heard footsteps approaching down the corridor,
and then he was suddenly aroused from his reverie by a voice exclaiming:

"Well, kid, you came near making a good-sized bit of money."

"I don't call a dollar a very large sum," retorted Bob.

"A dollar? What do you mean?" exclaimed one of the two men whom Bob
beheld standing outside the cell door, staring at him through the bars.
"You had seven hundred and fifty dollars of that countryman's money,
didn't you?"

"I saw seven hundred and fifty dollars of his money put in the envelope,
but all I was to get for holding the envelope until those bad men
returned was to be one dollar--and they didn't even come back to pay me,
and now I haven't delivered the groceries, and Mr. Dardus will be very
angry."

"Oh, ho! So you are Len Dardus' kid, are you?" queried the other of
Bob's inquisitors.

"I'm not his kid, but he is my guardian," corrected the lad in a voice
so