skered face into that
of Fremont, "tell me where the papers are, and I'll set you free in an
instant."

"I know nothing about the papers you speak of," was the reply. "I have
never had them in my possession."

The renegade whispered with his companions for a moment. Jimmie could
not hear what was being said, but the soldiers seemed to be insisting
on some point which the leader was not quite certain of. Then the
latter asked:

"You are certain you made no mistake?"

The others nodded and pointed at Fremont.

"It is as you commanded," one of them said, in fair English.

Then the big man turned back to the prisoner, an ugly frown on his
repulsive face.

"You are not telling me the truth," he said. "You know well enough
where the papers are. It is useless for you to deny."

The leader believed the prisoner to be Nestor. That was plain now.
And Fremont had been captured by these brigands in the absence of the
leader, and he was taking their word that they had abducted the right
boy. This might account for the delay. The leader might have joined
his men only now.

"I don't know anything about the papers," insisted Fremont.

"Huh!" muttered Jimmie, from his hiding place. "Why don't he tell his
nobbs who he is? Then he might be released."

Jimmie did not know that Fremont had long been considering this very
point, and finally decided that the correct course for him to pursue
would be to permit his captor to remain in ignorance of his identity.
The instant he knew that his brigands had made a mistake, the fellow
would be out after Nestor with a larger force, and that would make it
dangerous for the boy, would hamper him in the work he was there to do.
Besides, he believed that the course he proposed would gain time, and
that Nestor would certainly come to his rescue.

"You are making a mistake," the big man threatened, as Fremont again
denied knowledge of the papers. "You are known to have been in the
Cameron building that night. You are known to have taken the papers
away from there, and to have made use of them. I won't say what
treacherous use now. If the papers are not on your person, they are
hidden somewhere."

Fremont only shook his head. In the growing light Jimmie could see
that he was very pale, that he seemed tired out, as if he had been
traveling all night. However, the white face he saw had a determined
look, and Jimmie marveled at the mental processes which should so
obstinately def