nute ago you said you never saw him till yesterday," said the stout
man, suspiciously.

"No more I did. My sister lives at the East."

"Has she sent him to you to be brought up in the way he should go?"
asked Jack, with a sneer.

"No; the boy's run away. He came across me by chance."

"That's better," said Bill, partially reassured. "He won't be likely to
betray you--not now--but he may inform against this place."

"I'll answer for him."

"Are you going to let him go as soon as he brings the money, or will he
stay with you?"

"Oh, he'll go. I can't take care of a lad like him. I've other fish to
fry."

"Suppose we keep him and train him up to our business?"

"He ain't the right sort for that."

"Shows the white feather, eh?"

"No; he's as brave as any boy I ever saw."

"What's the matter, then?"

"He's too honest and virtuous."

"What! your nephew, Dick?" and the two men laughed loudly. "That's too
thin. Don't ask us to swallow that."

"It's true."

"Why did he run away from home, then?"

"My sister's got a very rough temper--that's why."

"We can believe that," said Jack, "better than the other."

"Look here, Jack," said Dick, who was getting irritated, "you may find
that I've got the same kind of temper if you keep on badgering me about
the boy. I say he's to be trusted."

"He can be trusted under our eye. Have you any objection to our
detaining him?"

"There's no need."

"I say there is. You've let him into the knowledge of this place. He'll
blow on us some day."

"Do as you like," said Dick; "I don't care. I wash my hands of the
responsibility."

"That's all we want," said Bill. "We need a young one to help us in our
plans. If this nephew of yours is as brave as you say, he'll do. What
time was he to come here?"

"Twelve."

"Then it's a minute past the time. I don't think he'll come."

"The clock may be wrong." said Dick, but he glanced uneasily at the
clock, which now indicated a little past the hour.

His suspense was not a long one.

An old man, thin and shriveled, with a crafty eye, and a thin, squeaking
voice, here put his head in at the door.

"Is Mr. Mark Mortimer here?" he asked.

"That's me!" exclaimed Dick, jumping up eagerly.

"There's a boy wants to see you, Mr. Mark Mortimer," said the old man,
repeating the name as if he enjoyed it.

"It's my nephew," said Dick.

"Is his name Mortimer, too?" asked the proprietor of the establishment,
for such the old man