the new-comer with an
interested look.

"It's all up with the kid."

"Come in, Nick Brower, and let me have a look at your face. I want no
lies now," cried the woman sharply; and the man drew himself into a
little room, and stood regarding the female with a grin.

"Now let me hear what you've got to tell," demanded Mrs. Scarlet.

"It's ther kid--"

"Watson?"

"Yesum."

"Well, what has happened to him, man? Can't you speak?"

"He's took."

"Took?"

"Nabbed. Got the darbies on and gone South a wisitin'."

"Do you mean to say that Watson has been arrested?"

"I do, mam," grunted Brower. "He's well out of town, goin' South, and
I reckin he'll be in Jeffe'son City before we hear from him agin. I
seed him a-goin' with my own eyes."

"How did it happen?"

The man explained how young Skidway had been seized and taken on board
the train by Dyke Darrel.

"You are sure his captor was Dyke Darrel?"

"I ain't blind, I reckon," growled the man. "I heard sufficient to
tell me that the detective was takin' the kid back to Missoury, and
that was enough for me."

"Why did you permit it?"

A laugh answered the woman.

"You might have saved the boy," pursued Mrs. Scarlet, angrily. "Now he
will spend another five years in the dungeon where my poor man died of
a broken heart. Watson told me that the infamous Dyke Darrel was in
Chicago; but I had no thought of his recognizing the boy. Can you lend
me some money, Nick?"

"A purty question, Madge. Don't you know I'm always dead-broke?"
growled Brower. "What in the nation do you want with money any how?"

"I'm going to St. Louis."

"No?"

"I am. If Dyke Darrel puts my boy behind prison bars again, I will
have no mercy. It's life for life. I am tired of living, and am
willing to die to revenge myself on that miserable detective."

Mrs. Scarlet began pacing the room. She was deeply moved, and tears of
anger and sorrow glittered in her eyes. She was about to utter a
fierce tirade against the detective, when a step sounded without,
followed immediately by three raps on the door.

"Whist!" exclaimed Brower. "It is the Professor."

Madge Scarlet crossed the floor and admitted a visitor, a tall man
with fire-red hair and beard, who was well clad and wore blue glasses.
A plug hat, rather the worse for wear, was lifted and caressed
tenderly with one arm as the gentleman bowed before Mrs. Scarlet.

"I am pleased to find you at home, Mrs. Scarlet."

"I seldom go out