the moon. You could go down on
a visit, find out where they are, and bring them away."

"I say, dad," said Sam, with a sneer, "isn't that very much like
stealing?"

"No, no, no, no," cried his father quickly; "only getting back some
documents left in my charge--papers which I gave up during a severe
illness, when I did not know what I was about. You understand?"

"Oh yes, father, I understand, but it looks ugly."

"It would look uglier for you to be left almost without a penny, Sam,
and your cousin to be well off."

"Ye-es," said Sam quietly, as he stood with his brows knit; "that would
be ugly, dad."

"Then you will go?"

"Perhaps. That depends. Not as you propose. They'd miss the papers,
and I should get the credit of having taken them."

James Brandon stared at his son in surprise, forgetting the fact that he
had been training and moulding him for years to become a self-satisfied,
selfish man, with only one idea, that of taking care of himself, no
matter who suffered.

"He's growing a sharp one," thought the father, half gratified, half
annoyed. Then aloud--

"Oh no, Sam, I don't think that."

"You don't want to think that, father," said Sam, drawing himself up
importantly.

"Oh yes, my boy," said James Brandon. "I don't want to get you into
trouble."

"No, father, of course not; it would be getting you into a scrape as
well. Look here, suppose I slip down and get the deeds without being
seen--without any one being a bit the wiser?"

James Brandon shook his head.

"Oh, I don't want the job," said Sam coolly.

His father was silent for a few moments, and Sam took out a knife, threw
himself back in his chair, and began to trim his nails.

"But look here, Sam," said James Brandon at last, and he seemed to be in
a nervous, excited state. "It is of vital importance to me that I
should have those papers."

"Then if I were you I should go down and get them, father," said Sam
coolly.

"But that is impossible, my boy. Come, you will do that for me?"

"I don't see why I should," replied Sam; "you don't make things very
pleasant for me."

"But I will, my boy, I will do anything you like; and don't you
understand how important it is for you?"

"Yes, I begin to see," said Sam coolly. "You've got yourself into a
scrape, father, over some of young Tom Blount's affairs, and you want to
make cat's-paws of me."

"No, sir," cried his father angrily.

"Oh, but you do."

"I do want you to h