behind the belated traveler, awaiting the moment when he can spring
upon him unawares, is enough to cause the bravest man to shiver with
dread.

The night was very dark. The day had been cloudy, and there was no moon;
but Ben was in a large city, with an efficient police system (that is,
equal to the average), there were street lamps, the hour was not
unusually late, and there were other persons beside himself abroad. And
yet, in the heart of the metropolis, at the same hour, crimes have been
perpetrated whose mystery has never been unraveled to this day.

Ben Mayberry may have felt somewhat uneasy, but there was not so much
fear as there was curiosity to know what earthly reason any living man
could have for following him in that stealthy fashion.

Surely no one could suspect him of being burdened with wealth. The only
article of any account about his person was a silver watch, which had
cost him sixteen dollars. He never carried a pistol, for he saw no
necessity for doing so. If he should find himself beset by enemies who
were too strong to be resisted, he could run as rapidly as any person in
the city, and a short run in Damietta was enough to take him to a place
of safety inaccessible to his assailants.

When he turned into the narrow street which led across the bridge where
he had his affray with Rutherford Richmond and his companion, he
reflected that it was perhaps the most dangerous spot in the
neighborhood. There was a single lamp just before stepping on the bridge,
where one might run against another before seeing him.

He hesitated a minute as he made the turn. It was easy enough to reach
his home by a different route, which was somewhat longer, but which was
well lighted all the way, and there could be little risk in taking it.

"I'll stick to the usual way," muttered Ben, striding resolutely forward;
"I don't believe anything like murder is contemplated."

At that moment he would have felt much more comfortable had he possessed
a pistol, or some kind of weapon, but he did not hesitate, now that he
had "put his hand to the plow."

A minute later he stepped on the bridge, where the gas lamp shone upon
him, and, with his usual deliberate tread, passed off in the gloom of the
other side. The instant he believed himself beyond sight of his pursuer,
he quickened his gait but continually looked back in the hope of gaining
a view of the man, for the boy was naturally eager to learn who it was
that was playi