s a call for help," said Fremont.

"That's what," from Jimmie.

"It may mean for the man with the short leg to come on," laughed Frank.
"I wish I had my drum. I could make him think he had help coming. You
wait until I get that drum. I'll show you what's what."

Lights could now be seen moving on the mountain. It seemed clear that
men were massing there for some purpose. Soon Frank and Jimmie were
asleep. Then Nestor asked:

"George, do you remember whether the bolt in the corridor door of the
Cameron suite turned under your key that night? In other words, was
the door locked?"

"I thought it was," was the reply.

"But you are not certain?"

"No, because I was dazed when I opened the door and found the room dark
and still. I had expected to find Mr. Cameron at his desk, as there
were lights there before I entered the building."

"You saw no one on the stairs?"

"Not a soul."

"When did you first meet Mr. Cameron?"

"Seven years ago, when I was selling newspapers."

"He was a customer?"

"Yes, and a good one. He talked with me quite a lot, and finally asked
me to come to live with him and take a position in his office when I
got older."

"And you were glad to go?"

"Naturally. My life was not a pleasant one."

"Did he ever talk to you about that old life?"

"Often. He asked me lots of questions about my parents."

"And what did you tell him?"

"There was noting to tell. I could not remember my parents. At first
there was Mother Scanlon, who beat me as often as she fed me, and then
I was on the streets, sleeping in alleys and stairways."

"Have you seen this Mother Scanlon lately?" was the next question.

"Never, but why are you asking me all these questions? I'm no fairy
prince under enchantment. Just a waif left alone in New York. There
are plenty such."

"I want you to look Mother Scanlon up when you get back to New York,"
Nestor said. He might have given some reason for the remark, only
Jimmie and Frank awoke and called attention to signals on the mountain.

"I know that wig-wag game," the latter said. "Keep still and I'll tell
you what he says."

Four pair of eyes were instantly fixed on the heights above, where a
slender column of flame, like a torch on fire most of its length, was
plainly to be seen. It was not a stationary column, however, for it
moved to right and left in an arc of ninety degrees, starting at
vertical and swinging back of it. At times the point w