o such ranch near Painted Stone."

"Well, maybe I'm wrong. I just stopped there, but I have a poor memory
for names," said the stranger quickly. "But permit me to introduce
myself. I'm John Wakely, of Buffalo. I'm a stranger in New York, and,
as you are also, I thought we might go about a bit together."

"That would suit me," replied Roy, who was beginning to feel a bit
lonely in the big city, without the company of a friend. He thought
this was a good opportunity to go around and see the sights. He told
the man his name.

"Suppose we go in and have some ice cream soda," went on Mr. Wakely.
"Or, better, still, have it in my room. I'm stopping at this hotel.
Then we can go out a bit."

The idea appealed to Roy, who had a liking for the ice cream sodas he
had only lately become familiar with. The day was hot, and the
stranger seemed very cordial. Roy had a dim suspicion that he had
heard his voice somewhere before, but he could not place it. Certainly
the face was not one he could recall.

They went to Mr. Wakely's room, and soon a bell boy brought two large
glasses of the cool beverage.

He set them down on the table between Mr. Wakely and Roy, and then
withdrew. Had Roy known now of the dangers of the city he never would
have trusted a stranger as he did this one.

"Is that your handkerchief on the floor behind you?" asked Mr. Wakely
suddenly, pointing at something on the carpet.

Roy turned. At the same instant Mr. Wakely extended his hand over the
glass of soda in front of the boy. Something like a white powder
sifted down into it.

A moment later Roy turned back.

"It's not my handkerchief," he said. "Must be a piece of dust rag, the
work-girl dropped."

"Very likely. But drink your soda and we'll go out." The boy put to
his lips the glass, into which Mr. Wakely had sifted the white powder.
He was in great danger, but he did not realize nor suspect it.

CHAPTER XIX

ROY IS MISSING

Shortly after this incident, approaching the clerk at the hotel desk
where he had engaged a room near Roy's, Mr. Wakely, seeming much
concerned, said:

"My friend, Mr. Bradner, has been taken suddenly ill. I think I shall
take him to my doctor's. Will you call me a cab?"

"Why don't you have the hotel doctor look at him?" suggested the clerk,
who had taken a liking to the boy from the ranch. The clerk did not
exactly like the ways of Mr. Wakely, who had only taken a room at the
hotel a day or