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{\noindent}
{\centering
{\LARGE\strut{A YOUNG INVENTOR'S PLUCK}}
\endgraf}
\par

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{\noindent}
\noindent
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the \hyperlink{project-gutenberg-license}{Project Gutenberg License} included with
this ebook or online at {https://www.gutenberg.org/license}. If you
are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws
of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
\par

\noindent
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\begin{container}
\vs{2}
{\noindent}
\noindent
Title: A Young Inventor's Pluck
 \\
       or The Mystery of the Willington Legacy
 \\

 \\
Author: Arthur M. Winfield
 \\

 \\
Release Date: February 20, 2013 {[}eBook \#42142{]}
 \\

 \\
Language: English
 \\

 \\
\par
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\noindent
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YOUNG INVENTOR'S PLUCK ***
\par

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{\noindent}
\noindent
Produced by Al Haines.
\par


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{\centerleft{{\itshape{"I'LL TRY MY BEST," REPLIED JACK, TAKING UP HIS KIT OF TOOLS.}}
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{\centering
{\LARGE\strut{A Young
 \\
Inventor's Pluck}}
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\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ OR}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\Large\strut{THE MYSTERY OF THE
 \\
WILLINGTON LEGACY}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\normalsize{ BY
 \\
Arthur M. Winfield,}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{3}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\footnotesize{Author of "THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL,"
 \\
"THE MISSING TIN BOX," "SCHOOLDAYS OF
 \\
FRED HARLEY," etc.}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{3}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\normalsize{ NEW YORK -- AKRON, O. -- CHICAGO
 \\
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO.
 \\
1901}}
\endgraf}
\par

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{\noindent}
{\centering
{\footnotesize{COPYRIGHT, 1901,
 \\
BY
 \\
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO.}}
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\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{INTRODUCTION}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
{\itshape{My Dear Boys and Girls:}}--\par

"A YOUNG INVENTOR'S PLUCK" relates the
adventures of a wide-awake American lad of a
mechanical turn of mind, who suddenly finds
himself thrown upon his own resources and compelled
to support not only himself, but likewise his sister.\par

Jack Willington's path is no easy one to tread.
The bank in which the sister and brother have their
little store of money deposited fails, and with this
comes the shutting down of the tool works in
which our hero is employed.  To add to the lad's
troubles, there is a large fire in the town and the
youth is accused of incendiarism.\par

But Jack and his sister Deb are not without
friends, and the fact that the boy is an inventor and
has almost ready the model of a useful and valuable
invention, aids him to secure his release, and then
he goes forth to run down his enemies and to solve
the mystery connected with a rich family legacy.\par

Generally speaking, life in a factory town is
thought to be dull and monotonous, whereas the
truth is, that it is usually full of interest and not
devoid of excitement of a peculiar kind.  In this
tale I have tried to picture life in such a place
truthfully, with all of its lights and its shadows,
and I hope that my story will prove more or less
instructive in consequence.\par


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
Affectionately your friend,
] 

\noindent
ARTHUR M. WINFIELD.
\par
\end{description}


\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CONTENTS}}
\endgraf}
\par


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{2}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER I.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{the-shut-down}{THE SHUT DOWN}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER II.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{for-the-sake-of-home}{FOR THE SAKE OF HOME}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER III.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{a-result-of-a-fire}{A RESULT OF A FIRE}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER IV.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{bad-news-for-deb}{BAD NEWS FOR DEB}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER V.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{finding-bail}{FINDING BAIL}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER VI.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{home-once-more}{HOME ONCE MORE}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER VII.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{into-the-river}{INTO THE RIVER}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER VIII.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{something-about-the-model}{SOMETHING ABOUT THE MODEL}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER IX.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{mr-benton-makes-trouble}{MR. BENTON MAKES TROUBLE}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER X.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{driven-from-home}{DRIVEN FROM HOME}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XI.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{on-the-river-road}{ON THE RIVER ROAD}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XII.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{jack-s-dangerous-position}{JACK'S DANGEROUS POSITION}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XIII.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{over-the-falls}{OVER THE FALLS}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XIV.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{max-pooler-s-meg}{MAX POOLER'S MEG}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XV.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{the-miser-of-the-island}{THE MISER OF THE ISLAND}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XVI.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{on-board-the-kitty}{ON BOARD THE "KITTY"}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XVII.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{meg-to-the-rescue}{MEG TO THE RESCUE}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XVIII.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{deb-at-the-mill}{DEB AT THE MILL}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XIX.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{in-corrigan-s-power}{IN CORRIGAN'S POWER}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XX.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{mont-tells-his-story}{MONT TELLS HIS STORY}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XXI.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{corrigan-makes-a-move}{CORRIGAN MAKES A MOVE}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XXII.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{heaps-of-money}{HEAPS OF MONEY}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XXIII.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{the-miser-s-treasure}{THE MISER'S TREASURE}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XXIV.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{a-glimpse-of-the-past}{A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XXV.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{chasing-andy-mosey}{CHASING ANDY MOSEY}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XXVI.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{papers-of-great-value}{PAPERS OF GREAT VALUE}
\par
\end{description}


\begin{description}
\item[
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
CHAPTER XXVII.
] 

\noindent
\hyperlink{love-your-enemies-conclusion}{"LOVE YOUR ENEMIES"--CONCLUSION}
\par
\end{description}


\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{ILLUSTRATIONS.}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
\noindent
\hyperlink{i-ll-try-my-best-replied-jack-taking-up-his-kit-of-tools}{"I'll try my best," replied Jack taking up his
kit of tools} . . . Frontispiece
\par


\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
\hyperlink{well-sir-what-is-it-he-asked-hardly-looking-up}{"Well, sir, what is it?" he asked, hardly looking up}
\par


\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
\hyperlink{jack-was-soon-as-busy-as-a-bee-putting-the-machines-in-running-order-and-overhauling-other-farming-implements}{Jack was soon as busy as a bee, putting the machines
in running order and overhauling
other farming implements}
\par


\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
\hyperlink{been-tellin-sthories-about-me-he-exclaimed-sayin-i-sthole-yer-match-box-an-set-foire-to-old-gray-s-house-oi-ll-fix-ye}{"Been tellin' sthories about me!" he exclaimed.
"Sayin' I sthole yer match-box an' set foire
to old gray's house!  Oi'll fix ye!"}
\par


\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
\hyperlink{with-a-quick-spring-he-gave-the-young-man-a-push-that-sent-him-spinning-over-backward}{With a quick spring he gave the young man a
push that sent him spinning over backward}
\par


\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
\hyperlink{the-body-came-within-his-reach-and-leaning-over-he-stayed-its-progress}{The body came within his reach, and leaning
over, he stayed its progress}
\par


\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
\hyperlink{did-you-really-go-over-them-falls-she-continued-jerking-her-thumb-in-the-direction}{"Did you really go over them falls?" she
continued, jerking her thumb in the direction}
\par


\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
\hyperlink{the-miser-of-the-island-had-lost-his-balance-and-after-vainly-clutching-the-air-to-save-himself-had-floundered-into-the-water-and-mud-below}{The miser of the island had lost his balance,
and after vainly clutching the air to save
himself, had floundered into the water and mud below}
\par


\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
\hyperlink{i-mean-just-this-replied-corrigan-catching-her-by-the-arm-you-are-my-prisoner-and-must-do-as-i-say}{"I mean just this," replied Corrigan, catching
her by the arm, "you are my prisoner and
must do as I say"}
\par


\vs{1}
{\noindent}
\noindent
\hyperlink{with-a-strong-push-of-his-powerful-arm-he-sent-the-man-flying-into-a-corner}{With a strong push of his powerful arm, he
sent the man flying into a corner}
\par

\label{the-shut-down}%
\hypertarget{the-shut-down}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\LARGE\strut{A YOUNG INVENTOR'S PLUCK}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{3}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER I.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ THE SHUT DOWN}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
"Oh Jack! how blue you look!"\par

"I feel blue, Deb," answered Jack
Willington, as he entered the door of his
modest home and gave his sister the brotherly kiss he
knew she was expecting.\par

"Is there something the matter up at the tool
works, Jack?"\par

"Yes, Deb.  The works are going to shut down."\par

"To shut down?" repeated the girl, her eyes
wide open in affright, for she knew only too well
what such a calamity meant.  "When will they close?"\par

"To-morrow.  In fact we have quit on the regular
work already."\par

"And how long will the shut-down last?"\par

"Nobody knows.  I asked Mr. Johnson--he's
the foreman, you know--and he said he thought a
month or six weeks, but he wasn't sure."\par

"A month!  Oh, Jack, it's an awfully long time!"\par

And Deb Willington's face grew very grave.\par

"I know it is--longer than I care to remain
idle, even if I could afford to, which I can't.  But
that's not the worst of it."\par

"No?"\par

"No; they didn't pay us for the last two weeks' work."\par

"Why not?"\par

"Johnson said that they wanted to pay off every
man in full, and that the figuring would take
several days."\par

"And you won't get any money till then?"\par

"Not a cent.  My private opinion is that the
company is in some sort of a financial difficulty,
and only want to gain time.  Mont didn't have a
word to say about it when I asked him, and, I
imagine he knows a good deal about his uncle's affairs."\par

Deb cast down her eyes in a meditative way.\par

"To-morrow is rent day," she said, after a pause.\par

"I know it.  I've been thinking of it all the
way home.  How much have we got toward
paying the six dollars?"\par

"Three dollars and a half."  And Deb brought
forth the amount from her small purse.\par

"Humph!  I don't see what's to be done," mused
Jack, as he removed his hat and sat down.
"Mr. Hammerby will have to wait for his money."\par

"Will he?"\par

"I don't see what else he can do.  But, aside
from that, three dollars and a half won't keep us a
month.  I'll have to look elsewhere for work."\par

Deborah and John Willington were orphans.
Their father had died some ten years before.  He
had been a strong, industrious and ingenious
machinist, of a quiet nature, and at his demise left his
wife and two children with a small property,
which, however, was subject to a mortgage of
several hundred dollars.\par

His widow found it no easy matter to get along.
Jack was but seven years of age and Deb five, and,
of course, could do little or nothing, except
occasionally to "help mamma."\par

Mrs. Willington in her reduced circumstances
had taken in sewing, and also opened a school for
little children, and by these means had earned a
scanty living for her family.\par

But it was not long before the strain began to
tell upon the brave woman.  She was naturally
delicate, and grew weaker slowly but surely, until,
eight years later, she quietly let slip the garment
she was making, folded her hands, and peacefully
went to join her husband in the Great Beyond.\par

Deb and Jack were terribly startled when the sad
event occurred.  They were utterly alone in the
world.  It was true that there were distant
relatives upon their mother's side, but they had always
been too proud to notice the Willington family,
and now made no attempt to help the orphans.\par

Shortly after the mother's funeral, the mortgage
on the homestead fell due, and as it could not be
met, the place went under the auctioneer's hammer.\par

Realty in Corney, as the factory town was called,
was not booming at the time, and, as a consequence,
when all the costs were paid, only one
hundred dollars and the furniture remained as a start in
life for the two children.\par

They had no home, no place to go.  What was
to be done?\par

A kind neighbor spoke of adopting Deb, and
another obtained for Jack a job in the Tool
Company's works.\par

But the two would not separate.  When Jack
mentioned it, Deb sobbed and clung to him, until
he declared that she should remain with him no
matter what happened.\par

At this time Jack earned eight dollars a week,
and had the prospect of a raise.  With this
amount they rented three rooms for six dollars a
month, and Deb, young as she was, took upon
herself the important duties of housekeeping.\par

Things moved crudely at first, but it was so nice
to be together, to work for one another, that,
excepting for their recent bereavement, which still
hung as a heavy cloud over their lives, they lived
as happily as "two bugs in a rug."\par

Jack thought the world of his sister Deb.  He
was a rather silent fellow, with a practical turn of
mind, not given overmuch to fun making, and his
sister's bright and cheerful way was just what was
needed to lift his mind out of the drudge-rut into
which it was wont to run.\par

He spent all his evenings in her company, either
at home or, when the weather was fine, in strolling
around Corney, or in attendance upon some
entertainment that did not cost much money, and which
gave Deb keen enjoyment.  Sometimes, when he
got the chance, he would do odd jobs at his bench
on the sly, and then, with the extra money thus
earned, would surprise Deb by buying her
something which he knew she desired, but which their
regular means would not afford.\par

Jack was now earning twelve dollars a week and
they lived much more comfortably than before.
During the past three years they had saved quite a
neat sum, but a month of severe illness for Deb had
now reduced them to their original capital of one
hundred dollars, which was deposited in the
Mechanics' Savings Bank of Corney--a sum that
both had decided should not be touched unless it
became absolutely necessary.\par

Young as he was, Jack understood the machinist's
trade thoroughly.  He took a lively interest in
his work, and the doing of jobs on his own account
had led him to erect a small workbench at home.\par

Here he often experimented upon various
improvements in machinery, hoping at some time to
invent that which might bring him in a substantial
return.\par

One of his models--a planing machine
attachment--was nearly completed, and this had been
considerably praised by Mr. Benton, a shrewd
speculator in inventions of various kinds.\par

"I'm afraid we'll have to draw part of that
hundred dollars from the bank," observed Jack as the
two were eating the neat supper Deb had prepared.
"I hate to do it, but I don't see any way out of it."\par

"It does seem a shame, after we've kept it so
long," returned his sister.  "But do as you think
best.  Only, Jack, dear, please don't worry.  It
will all come out right in the end."\par

Her brother had laid down his knife and fork
and was resting his chin on his hand in deep meditation.\par

"You're right, Deb," he exclaimed starting up,
"and I ought to be thankful for what we have got,
especially for having such a good little sister to
ease things up."\par

"Say, Jack," suddenly began Deb, struck with
an idea, "you are so handy with the tools, why
don't you open a little shop of your own?
Wouldn't it pay?"\par

Jack's face brightened more than it had for
many a day.\par

"I'm glad you said that," he replied.  "I've
often thought of it.  But I hated to give up a
certainty like my wages for----"\par

"Yes, but now----" began Deb.\par

"One misfortune gives me a chance to tempt
another."  He gave a sorry little laugh.  "Is that
what you mean?"\par

"You'll get along--never fear."\par

"There ought to be a chance, true enough.  I
could sharpen tools, repair lawn mowers and
bicycles, and mend all sorts of things.  There is no
such shop in Corney as yet, and it ought to pay."\par

"How much would it cost to start?" asked Deb,
with great interest.\par

"I think fifty or sixty dollars would put me into
shape to do small work.  I have most of the tools,
and would only need a lathe and one or two other
things--that I could get second-hand."\par

"I'll tell you what to do then," was Deb's
conclusion; "to-morrow morning, go down to the
bank and draw out seventy-five dollars.  Then
we'll pay the rent, and you can take the rest and
try your luck."\par

"Yes, but----"\par

"No buts, Jack; I'm willing to put up with
whatever comes--bad luck as well as good.  I'm
sure you'll succeed."\par

"If your good wishes count for anything, I
certainly shall," exclaimed Jack, earnestly.  "I think
I can rent a shop for ten dollars a month, or,
maybe, if I pay a little more, I can get one with
living rooms attached, which would be cheaper
than hiring two places."\par

"And nicer, too," returned Deb; "you wouldn't
have to go so far for dinner, and I could attend to
customers while you were away."\par

The pair talked in this strain for over an hour.
His sister's sanguine way of looking at the matter
made the young machinist feel as if perhaps the
shut-down was not such a bad thing, after all, and
might prove the turning point to something better
than they had ever before known.\par

The next morning, for the first time in several
years, Jack had breakfast late.  It was soon over,
and then he put on his good clothes and started for
the bank.\par

The streets were thronged with idle men.  The
Corney Tool Company employed nearly a thousand
persons--in fact, it was by far the principal
factory in the place--and to have all these employes
thrown out of work was a calamity discussed by
everyone.\par

The Mechanics' Savings Bank had been
organized by Mr. Felix Gray, the owner of the tool
works, who presided over both places.  He was a
man of fifty, with an unusually sharp and irritable
disposition.\par

As Jack approached the bank he noticed a large
crowd collected in and around the building.\par

"I suppose, as they can't get their pay, they
want to withdraw some of their savings," was his
thought as he drew nearer.\par

An instant later a queer cry came from the
interior of the bank, and it was quickly taken up by
those outside.\par

"What is it?" asked the young machinist, of a
bystander.\par

"They've suspended payment," was the short reply.\par

"What!" gasped Jack, in horror.  "You don't mean it?"\par

But at the same time the crowd cried out loudly,
in angry tones:\par

"The bank's burst!  She's gone up for good!
No money for the poor man!  We can all starve!"\par

\label{for-the-sake-of-home}%
\hypertarget{for-the-sake-of-home}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER II.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ FOR THE SAKE OF HOME}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
"Can this be possible?  Has the bank really burst?"\par

Over and over Jack asked himself the question.
Then the words of the crowd echoed and re-echoed
through his ears.  Yes, the bank had suspended
payment.  There was no money for him--no
money for anyone!\par

"It's too bad!" he groaned.  "What will Deb say?"\par

The thought of his sister gave him another pang.
Without money and without work, how could he
continue to take care of her?\par

"Oh!  Jack, me b'y, not wan pinny av me two
hundred dollars will they give me at all," exclaimed
Andy Mosey, a fellow-workman, bitterly.\par

"How did it happen?" asked the young machinist.\par

"No wan knows.  Oi guess old Gray is in a
toight hole, an' is usin' the bank's money to get
him out."\par

Andy Mosey was a heavy-set Irishman, with a
bloated, red face and fiery hair and beard.  His
work brought him into daily contact with the
young machinist, but Jack did not like the man,
first on account of his drinking habit, and secondly,
because he suspected the Irishman of having stolen
from the pocket of his jumper a silver match
safe--a highly-valued Willington heirloom.\par

"It's a bad business, and no mistake."\par

The speaker was Dennis Corrigan, a pattern
maker.  He was a brother-in-law to Mosey, but
much more educated, and somewhat refined in
appearance as well.\par

"Yes, indeed," returned Jack.\par

"How do they expect us to live if they don't pay
us our wages or let us draw our savings either?"\par

"Old Gray will pay dearly fer this," put in
Andy Mosey, with a wicked look in his eye;
"oi'll vow he'll be moighty sorry for this day's
worruk ere long."\par

Jack elbowed his way up the bank steps and
into the building.  The cashier's window was
closed, and behind the glass this notice was
pasted up:\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
"{\itshape{Depositors are hereby notified that owing to the
unexpected run upon this bank, no further payments
will be made until the more available assets are
converted into cash.}}"\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
The crowd were all talking loudly and excitedly,
and Jack tried in vain to obtain definite
information concerning the cause for the suspension.\par

At length, sick at heart, he returned to the
sidewalk, where Andy Mosey, the worse for several
glasses of liquor, again addressed him.\par

"Not wan pinny av me two hundred dollars,
Jack, me b'y!" he repeated in a heavy voice; "an'
they call it a free counthry!  Sure it's only free fer
rich people to rob the poor!"\par

"It's rough," replied Jack.\par

"Old Gray will pay dearly fer it, mark me wurruds!"\par

"What will you do?"\par

"Never moind, Jack, me b'y!  Thrust Andy
Mosey to get square wid the ould villian!"\par

Jack retraced his steps homeward with slow and
unwilling steps.  All his bright hopes of the past
hour had been dashed to naught.  No money meant
no start in business, and with a thousand men idle
what chances were there of finding employment?\par

"If I had a few dollars in my pocket I might
try some other town," he thought.  "But without
some money, it's hard lines, sure enough."\par

Jack would not have felt it so much had he been
alone, but with Deb depending upon him, his
responsibility seemed more than doubled.\par

Their home was on the second floor of a large
apartment house standing upon one of the side
streets of Corney.  As Jack ascended the stairs he
heard talking in the kitchen.\par

"Wonder who is here?  Visitors of some kind,"
he thought.\par

Entering, the young machinist found Mr. Hammerby,
the house-agent, in earnest conversation with Deb.\par

Mr. Hammerby was a short, dapper business
man, small in form, and a person of few words.\par

"Yes, I never allow a rent day to go by," he
was saying.  "People who hire from me must
expect to pay promptly."\par

"But sometimes people fall ill, and get behind----"
began Deb.\par

"True, but that's not my fault, and I never--ah,
here is your brother at last.  Good morning,
Mr. Willington."\par

"Good morning, Mr. Hammerby," returned
Jack, soberly, and with a sinking heart.  "You
came for the rent, I suppose."\par

"Yes, sir, always prompt, you know," replied
the agent, rubbing his hands together.\par

"I told him you had just gone to get the money,"
put in Deb.\par

"I--I'm sorry, but I can't pay you today," said
Jack, as calmly as he could, but with a worried
glance at his sister.\par

"Oh, Jack, what has happened?" burst out
Deb, growing pale.\par

"The bank has stopped payment."\par

"And you expected to get your money from
that place?" asked Mr. Hammerby.\par

"Yes, sir."\par

"Your sister told me you had gone out for it,
but did not tell me where."\par

"Can't you get any money, Jack?" asked Deb,
catching his arm.\par

"Not a cent."\par

The tears started in the girl's eyes.  Here was
indeed a blow.\par

"Well, I'm sorry, but I must have the rent,"
said Mr. Hammerby, firmly.\par

"I can't pay it," replied Jack.  "If I had the
money, nothing would please me more.  But I
haven't got any pay for the past two weeks' work,
and I have but three dollars and a half, and that
we must keep for living purposes."\par

"Humph!  When do you propose to pay?"\par

"In a few days.  Just as soon as I get my money
from the factory."\par

"That won't suit me.  If I don't have my money
by to-night I'll serve you a three-days' notice to
quit."\par

It may seem strange that Mr. Hammerby should
be so hard upon his tenants, but the truth was, he
understood more of the factory and the bank affairs
than was generally known.\par

He was well aware that it would be a long time
before cash could be had at either place.\par

"But surely you wouldn't turn us out for being
behind just this once!" exclaimed Jack.  "We
have paid promptly for three years."\par

"I can't make any allowance.  It's pay or leave.
I might have got more than you pay for these
rooms, but I let you have them at a low figure
because I thought you would be prompt."\par

"But Mr. Gray owns this building," put in Deb,
eagerly; "surely he will not allow his own
workmen, to whom money is due, to be put out."\par

"He doesn't bother his head about it," returned
Mr. Hammerby, with assumed dignity.  "He
expects me to obey orders, and those orders are to
collect or give notice."\par

"Well, I haven't the money," repeated Jack.\par

"I'll step in in the morning," went on the agent,
"and then it's money or notice.  Good day."\par

And without further words Mr. Hammerby left
the apartment.  The minute the door was closed
Deb burst into tears.\par

"They will set us into the street!" she sobbed.
"Was ever a person so cruel before!  Oh, Jack,
what shall we do?  What shall we do?"\par

Jack sank into a chair without replying.  His
mind was busy trying to devise some means of
averting the blow that appeared so imminent.
Though it cut him to the heart to see his sister so
distressed, he could offer her no comforting hope.\par

"I'm going up to see Mr. Gray," he said,
finally, "I'll tell him just how the matter stands.
I don't believe if he knew the particulars that he
would let Mr. Hammerby put us out."\par

"If he did he'd be the hardest-hearted man in
Corney," declared Deb, between her sobs.\par

For Jack to think, was to act, and in a few
seconds he was ready to depart.\par

"Shall I go along?" asked his sister, hesitatingly.\par

"I guess not.  You can meet me at the corner if
you like," replied Jack.\par

Mr. Gray's residence was situated in the
fashionable part of the town.  It was an elegant
establishment throughout, and Jack was not a little awed
by the sumptuous surroundings.\par

He was ushered into the hall, and found himself
among half a dozen others, all awaiting an
interview with the manufacturer.\par

It was fully half an hour before he was told to
enter the library.  He found Mr. Felix Gray seated
at a desk which was deep with letters and documents.\par

The manufacturer was a stout man of fifty, with
a certain sullen, bull-dog cast of countenance.\par

"Well, sir, what is it?" he asked, hardly looking up.\par{}

\begin{figure}[h!tbp]
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\label{well-sir-what-is-it-he-asked-hardly-looking-up}%
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{\noindent}
{\centering
{[}image{]}
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\vs{1}
{\noindent}
{\centerleft{{\itshape{"WELL, SIR, WHAT IS IT?" HE ASKED, HARDLY LOOKING UP.}}
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In a brief but clear manner Jack stated his case.
Mr. Gray hardly heard him out.\par

"Mr. Willington," he said sharply, "I never
interfere with my agents' doings.  They have entire
charge.  Besides, it would be folly for me to make
your case an exception.  If I did so, any other
tenant might ask the same privilege."\par

"Yes, but if you would only give me an order
for some of the money due me, or for my
savings----" began the young machinist, growing
desperate.\par

Mr. Gray drew himself up.\par

"You must get that in the regular way," he
returned coolly.  "I never make exceptions to my
rules.  Good morning."\par

And before he could realize it, Jack was out on
the street again with bitter defeat written in every
line of his handsome face.\par

\label{a-result-of-a-fire}%
\hypertarget{a-result-of-a-fire}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER III.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ A RESULT OF A FIRE}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
At the corner Jack met Deb, whose anxiety had
caused her to follow him close to the Gray mansion.\par

"My! how long you've been!" she exclaimed,
and then with a keen glance into his face: "Did
he----  Did he----"\par

"He said he couldn't do a thing, that it was all
in the agent's hands," burst out Jack, "He is
meaner than mean.  He will let that man put us
out even when he owes us more than the amount of
the rent.  Well, it may be law, but it isn't justice
and he shall not do it!"\par

And the young machinist shut his teeth in grim
determination.\par

"If you can't get the money from the bank, I
suppose you can't go into business for yourself,"
said Deb, when they reached home.\par

"That's true enough.  Before the shut-down I
might have borrowed money, but now I guess all
our friends need every cent they have."\par

"Can't we raise some?"  Deb's eyes wandered
around the apartment.  Jack gave a dry little laugh.\par

"Not on this stuff," he replied.  "But we're
not reduced to that yet."  He walked over to
where the model he was working on stood.  "Wish
this was finished.  I believe I can make a neat sum
out of this invention."\par

"How long will it take to complete it?"\par

"Can't tell.  It depends on one's ideas.  But I'm
going out."\par

"Where?"\par

"To look for work."\par

In a moment Jack had descended to the
sidewalk.  He found the streets swarming with
people, and as he had before thought, with a
thousand men idle, what chance was there of getting
work?  Finding that every place in Corney was
full he determined to try Redrock, another
manufacturing town, situated on the Camel Falls river,
several miles below the present place.  The road
between the two places followed the river bank.
As Jack trudged along close to the water, he heard
a sudden cry for help.\par

Looking ahead he saw that one of the rear
wheels of a wagon had come off, and the driver,
horses and vehicle were all in danger of being
dumped into the stream.  It was but a moment's
work for the young machinist to rush up, and by
catching the horses' heads, to turn them in such a
way that the turnout righted itself in the center of
the road.\par

"Thank you, young man!" exclaimed the aged
farmer, who was driving, as he sprang to the
ground.  "That was a narrow escape, and no mistake."\par

"Your wagon is pretty well damaged," observed
Jack as he examined the shattered axle.\par

"Well, troubles never come singly."  replied
Farmer Farrell, for such was his name.  "This
morning something got into the patent rake so it
wouldn't work; then the grindstone got cranky,
and now this.  But thanks to Providence, I'm safe.
I reckon I'll have to go back for the other rig,
though.  Going my way?"\par

"Yes, sir.  I'm bound for Redrock to look for work."\par

As the two walked along, Jack related what had
happened in Corney.\par

"Well, I declare!  I'm lucky any way," declared
Farmer Farrell, "I got my money out of the bank
a month ago.  It's too bad, though, for you.  What
did you say you were?"\par

"I'm a machinist," replied Jack, and then
suddenly: "Perhaps I can fix up your patent rake
and your grindstone.  I'll do a good job and won't
overcharge you."\par

To this Farmer Farrell, who was taken by Jack's
appearance, agreed, and a few minutes later led
the way up a lane to a well-stocked farm.\par

Down in the barn the young machinist found
the things that needed repairing.  He looked
everything over carefully.\par

"I'll bring my tools to-morrow and fix them up,"
he said.  "If I get work in Redrock I'll do the
work early in the morning or after I quit."\par

"And the cost?"\par

"About five or six dollars."\par

"Cheap enough.  Go ahead."\par

"I will.  I'll be on hand early in the morning
and do a good job," replied Jack.\par

The young machinist met with no success at
Redrock, and returned in an hour to Corney.  Deb
was pleased to hear that some work, at least, had
been procured.\par

"It will pay the rent anyway," said Jack, "and
that's something.  Perhaps, too, it may get me
some more jobs like it."\par

"That's so," replied Deb, her face brightening.\par

In the evening Jack worked on his model.  But
he went to bed at ten o'clock, so as to be up early
the next morning.\par

"Jack!  Jack!  Wake up!"\par

It was Deb's voice from the next room that
aroused him in the middle of the night.\par

"There is a big fire over on the hill," she
continued, "just look out of the window."\par

But Jack was already up.\par

"You're right!" he replied.  "It's a whopper,
too!" he continued, as the flames shot skyward,
making all as bright as day.  "I'll have to go,"
he added.\par

"Must you?"\par

"Certainly, it's my duty to serve."\par

For Jack was a duly enlisted member of the
Corney Volunteer Fire Department.\par

He hurried into his clothing as rapidly as possible,
and jumped down the stairs three at a time.\par

"Don't get hurt!" called Deb after him.\par

The engine house was but a few blocks away.
When Jack arrived there, he found that the
machine had been dragged out into the street but no
further.\par

"Why don't you catch hold?" he called to a
crowd of men who stood on the sidewalk.\par

"It's old Gray's house!" exclaimed one man,
"and it can burn to the ground for all I care."\par

"He don't help us; now let him help himself,"
put in another.\par

"Oh, pshaw!  It won't do any good to act that
way!" said Jack.  "Come, catch hold like men."\par

Jack was naturally a leader, and when he grasped
the rope three other young fellows followed, and
in a moment the engine was on its way.\par

"It's too bad it's Mr. Gray's house," thought
the machinist.  "It will make him harder-hearted
than ever."\par

He gave no thought as to how the conflagration
had originated, and did his best to get the engine
to the spot.\par

But, as has been stated, the place was up hill,
and by the time they had made their way along the
unpaved road, the fire had gained such headway
that it was useless to pour water on the burning
building, and all attention was directed to saving
the adjoining property.\par

The heat was intense, and Jack, who was often
at the nozzle of the hose, suffered greatly from this
and the smoke.\par

In an hour the fire was declared under control,
and a little later the order came to take up the hose
and go home.\par

Jack worked with a will.  He had done his duty,
and now he was anxious to return, tell Deb all
about it, and get to bed again.\par

While helping to wind the hose upon its
carriage, he was suddenly approached by Mr. Gray,
accompanied by a stranger.\par

"There he is!" were Mr. Gray's first words,
addressed to the stranger.\par

The man laid his hand upon Jack's shoulder.\par

"I want you," he said, quietly.\par

"What for?" asked Jack.\par

"I arrest you for setting fire to Mr. Gray's
house," was the startling reply.\par

"Arrest me!" exclaimed the young machinist.
"What do you mean?  I never set fire to any one's
house."\par

"Oh, yes, you did," put in the manufacturer.
"Only you didn't expect to be caught."\par

"It's false, I----"\par

"It's true.  You shall suffer heavily for this
night's work," went on Mr. Gray, bitterly.
"We'll see if the law allows tenants who won't
pay their rents to set their landlords' houses on
fire!  Watch him Parker, don't let him escape you!"\par

"Mr. Gray, I never----" began Jack.\par

"Come along," broke in the officer, roughly.
"You can do your talking in the morning."\par

And without further words Jack was marched
off to the Corney jail.\par

\label{bad-news-for-deb}%
\hypertarget{bad-news-for-deb}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER IV.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ BAD NEWS FOR DEB}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
After her brother Jack had gone, Deb stood
by the window a long time, watching the
progress of the fire.  She beheld the flames shoot
up, heard the shrill whistle of the engines, and the
shouts of the firemen, and finally saw the light subside.\par

She opened the window, and from the conversation
of the passers-by she learned that it was
Mr. Felix Gray's mansion that had been burned.\par

The little bronze clock upon the kitchen shelf
struck four.\par

"Jack will be returning soon," she thought,
"and he'll be awfully tired, too."\par

An hour passed.  She had put on a loose wrapper
and sat in the rocker, moving gently forward
and backward.  Presently the curly head began to
nod, and after one or two feeble attempts to rouse
up, Deb sank calmly into the land of dreams.\par

When she awoke, she found it was broad
daylight, and the tread of many feet upon the
pavement outside told that work had already begun.\par

"Eight o'clock!" exclaimed the girl.  "What
can keep Jack so long?"\par

Then the thought struck her that her brother
had returned and retired without waking her, but
a glance revealed the empty bed.\par

Deb's face blanched a trifle as the idea crossed
her mind that maybe something had happened,
after all.  Fires were such dreadful things, with
falling chimneys and half-burned staircases, and
Jack was so daring, and so ready to risk his life
for the benefit of others.\par

"I'll go down to Mrs. Snitzer's and find out
about it," was her conclusion, and locking the
door she descended the stairs.\par

Mrs. Snitzer was a German woman, who, with
her husband and three stalwart sons, occupied the
floor below.  She was a stout, kindly-faced woman
of about fifty, had been Deb's neighbor for a year,
and took a genuine interest in the girl and her
brother.\par

"Your brudder no got home yet from der fire?"
she said, after Deb had stated the object of her
morning call; "I thought der fire vas out long ago.
Mine boys come home, and vent to ped again,
aput five o'clock.  Da don't work now, so da say:
'Mudder, ve take a goot sleep for vonce in our
lifes;'" she added, with a broad smile.\par

"Jack's out of work, too," said Deb, soberly.\par

"Yah?  Vat a shame!  Nefer mind, it don't
last forefer.  Come, have some coffee mit me.  My
man ist gone out for the baber.  He come back soon."\par

The good woman set out one of her low chairs,
and knowing that Mrs. Snitzer's invitations were
genuine, the girl sat down, and allowed herself to
be helped to a bowl of the steaming beverage,
accompanied by several slices of sugared zweibach.\par

Just as the two were finishing Mr. Snitzer came
in, paper in hand.\par

His face grew troubled upon seeing Deb.\par

"I vas sorry for you," he said, approaching her.\par

"Sorry for me?" repeated the girl, with a
puzzled look.  "Why, Mr. Snitzer?"\par

"Gracious!  Didn't you hear?" returned the
man, dropping his paper in astonishment.\par

"Hear what?" faltered Deb.\par

Mr. Snitzer spoke in German to his wife, who
jumped to her feet.\par

"Nein! nein!" exclaimed the woman, vehemently.
"He nefer done dot--nefer in his whole life!"\par

And then as gently as possible Mrs. Snitzer
related how Jack had been accused by Mr. Felix
Gray of setting fire to the mansion, and was now
languishing in the town jail.\par

Deb's outburst was dreadful to behold.  She
threw herself upon the old German woman's breast
and sobbed as if her heart would break.  Her
Jack--her own dear brother, in prison!  The only one
she had in the wide world taken away from her,
and sent to a criminal's cell!  It was too horrible
to realize.\par

"How cruel of them to do it!" she moaned.
"And he is innocent, too.  He was home when
the fire broke out;" and she shook her head in
despair.\par

"Of course he didn't do it," said Mr. Snitzer.
"All der men say so.  Jack vas as steady as
anypody.  I dink it vas some of der hot-headed men
vas guilty."\par

"So don't cry, my dear girl," added Mrs. Snitzer,
sympathetically.  "It vill come out all
right by der end;" and she took one corner of her
clean gingham apron and wiped the tear-stained
cheeks.\par

"Where is the--the jail?" asked Deb presently,
in a low voice.\par

Mr. Snitzer described its location.\par

"You don't vas going there!" exclaimed the
German woman.\par

"Yes, I am," declared the girl, resolutely, with
a sudden, strong look in her beautiful eyes.\par

"But it vas a terrible bad blace," Mrs. Snitzer
ventured to remark.\par

"I don't care," replied Deb.  "I won't mind
going where Jack is.  I must see if I can't do
something for him."\par

Deb ran up stairs.  Her heart was full of fear,
and beat wildly.\par

She exchanged her wrapper for a suitable dress,
and arranged her hair.  As she was adjusting her
hat, there was a knock on the door, and thinking
Mrs. Snitzer had come up, she bid the person enter.\par

"Ah, just in time, I see!" was the exclamation,
made in Mr. Hammerby's voice.\par

Deb's face clouded even more than before.\par

"Oh, dear, you here?" she ejaculated in vexed tones.\par

"Yes; on hand, as I always am," replied the
agent, removing his hat.  "I suppose you are
ready with the rent?"\par

"No, I haven't the money," replied Deb.  Somehow
it was all she could manage to say.\par

"Your brother was unable to raise the amount?"\par

"He hasn't had time to try."\par

"I'm sorry, but as I said before 'business is
business,' and I'll have to serve the notice," and
drawing a paper from his pocket, Mr. Hammerby
handed it over.\par

It was a regular notice drawn up in due form,
demanding that in three days they quit the place.\par

Deb read it, but in her excitement did not notice
that the avaricious agent had dated it one day back.\par

"And must we leave in three days?" she faltered.\par

"Most assuredly--unless you raise the cash."\par

"But where will we go?" continued the girl
hopelessly.\par

"That's for you to decide," was the answer.
Mr. Hammerby had gone through so many "scenes,"
as he termed them, that the evident suffering of the
person he addressed did not affect him.\par

"But we haven't got anywhere to go," burst out Deb.\par

"Well, that's not my fault, is it?"\par

"No, but----"\par

"Then it's pay or leave," was the cold reply.\par

"What's up now, Mr. Hammerby?" asked a
quiet voice from the hallway.\par

It was the nephew of the tool manufacturer who
had come.  His name was Monteray Gray--the
Monteray being generally shortened to Mont.  He
was a young man of twenty, and kept the books
for the shipping department of the tool works.\par

"What, Mr. Gray, is that you?" exclaimed the
agent, taken back at the sudden interruption.
"Oh, it's only the same old story of no money for
the landlord," he added.\par

Mont looked at Deb.  He knew both her and
Jack very well.\par

"I am sorry to hear it," he said, with a pained face.\par

"It's all because of the shut-down at the factory,"
explained Deb, who, for a purely womanly reason
wanted to set herself right with the young man.\par

In a few short words she made him acquainted
with the situation.  Involuntarily Mont's hand
went down in his pocket, and then he suddenly
remembered that he had no money with him.\par

"See here, Mr. Hammerby," he said, "you had
better take this notice back.  There is no doubt
that you will get your money."\par

"Can't do it," replied the agent, with a decided
shake of the head.\par

"But my uncle would never consent to having
them put out," persisted the young man.\par

"Mr. Gray's orders are to give notice to any
one who doesn't pay," returned Mr. Hammerby,
grimly; "I'm only doing as directed."\par

"But this is an outrage!" exclaimed Mont.
"My uncle virtually owes Mr. Willington twenty
odd dollars, and here you intend to put him out for
a few dollars rent."\par

"You can see your uncle about it, if you wish.
I shall stick to my orders."\par

"Then you won't stop this notice?"\par

"No."\par

"Very well," replied Mont, quietly.\par

"I'm hired to do certain things, and I'm going
to do them," continued the agent.  "Besides, I
just heard this morning that this fellow is locked
up for setting fire to your uncle's house.  I should
not think that you would care to stick up for him,"
he went on.\par

"But I do care," returned the young man,
with a sudden show of spirit.  "He is a friend of
mine, and I don't believe him guilty."\par

"Humph!  Well, maybe.  It's none of my
business; all I want is the rent, and if they can't
pay they must leave," said Mr. Hammerby, bluntly.
"Good morning," he continued to Deb, and
without waiting for more words, turned and left the
apartment.\par

"I am sorry that my uncle has such a hard-hearted
man for his agent," observed Mont to Deb
with a look of chagrin on his face.\par

"So am I," she replied, and then suddenly; "Oh,
Mont, Jack is----"\par

"I know all about it," he interrupted.  "I've
just been down to see him.  He gave me this note
for you," and Mont handed the note to Deb.\par

\label{finding-bail}%
\hypertarget{finding-bail}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER V.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ FINDING BAIL}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
Jack hardly realized what arrest meant until he
heard the iron door clang shut, and found
himself in a stone cell, scarcely six feet square,
with nothing but a rough board upon which to rest.\par

He sat down with a heart that was heavier than
ever before.  The various misfortunes of the day
had piled themselves up until he thought they had
surely reached the end, and now, as if to cap the
climax, here he was arrested for the burning of a
place that he had worked like a beaver for two
hours to save.\par

He wondered how Mr. Felix Gray had come to
make the charge against him.  He could think of no
reason that could excite suspicion, saving, perhaps,
his rather hasty words in the tool manufacturer's
library the afternoon previous.\par

"I suppose he thinks I did it out of revenge,"
thought the young machinist; "but then there are
men--like Andy Mosey, for instance--who have
threatened far more than I.  Guess I can clear
myself--by an alibi, or some such evidence."\par

Nevertheless, he chafed under the thought of
being a prisoner, and felt decidedly blue when Deb
entered his mind.  What would his sister think of
his absence, and what would she say when told
what had happened?\par

"Maybe I can send her word," he said to
himself, and knocked loudly upon the door.\par

The watchman was just asleep on a sofa in an
adjoining room and did not hear him.\par

Failing to attract attention in this way, Jack
began to kick, and so vigorously did he apply his
heels that he awoke the sleeper with such a start
that he came running to the spot instantly.\par

"Can I send a message home?" asked the young
machinist.\par

"Not till morning," was the surly reply; "is
that all you want?"\par

"Yes.  Isn't there any way at all?" persisted
Jack.  "I have a sister who will worry over my
absence."\par

The man gaped and opened his eyes meditatively.\par

"You might if you was willing to pay for it,"
he replied, slowly.\par

"I have no money with me," replied Jack, feeling
in his pockets to make sure.\par

"Have to wait till morning then," was the short
reply, and the young machinist was once more left
alone.\par

He was utterly tired out, and in the course of
half an hour fell into a troubled slumber, from
which he did not awaken until called.\par

"Some one to see you," were the watchman's
words, and the door opened to admit Mont Gray.\par

Mont was a tall, thin young man.  He had a
large brow, deep, dark eyes, and a strangely earnest
face.  He was quiet in his way, attended
punctually to his office duties, and was on much better
terms with the hands at the tool works than his
uncle had ever been.  He was the only son of
Mr. Felix Gray's youngest brother, who had died a
widower some twelve years before--died, some
said, and put out of the way, others whispered.
That there was some mystery connected with those
times was certain.  Rumor had it that Felix Gray
had crowded his brother out of the business in
which he originally owned a half share.  This
transaction was followed by Monterey Gray's
sudden disappearance.  Felix Gray gave it as his
opinion that his brother had departed for Australia, a
place of which he had often spoken.\par

Young Mont--he was named after his father--had
been taken to live with his uncle, who kept
bachelor's hall in fine style.\par

The boy got along as best he could under the
sharp guardianship of Mr. Felix Gray, who, as
soon as he could, placed Mont at one of the desks,
where he was now allowed to earn his board and
four dollars a week.\par

His position at the tool works brought him into
daily contact with Jack; and, during the past two
years, a warm friendship had sprung up between
them.  He knew all about the young machinist's
ambition, and had spent many an evening at the
Willingtons' apartments watching Jack work, and
chatting to Deb, with whom, as is known, he was
on good terms.\par

"Hello, Mont!" exclaimed Jack, "what brings
you here?  Did your uncle send you?"\par

"Send me!" said the young man.  "No, indeed! he
doesn't even suspect I'm here; if he did
he would raise a row, sure."\par

"Then you don't believe I'm guilty?" began
Jack, somewhat relieved.\par

"Humph!  Nonsense!  I only wonder uncle
Felix thinks so," returned Mont.  "It seems to me
that the evidence of a match safe is a mighty slim one."\par

This was news to the young machinist.\par

"Why, what about a match safe?" he asked.\par

"Didn't you hear?" was Mont's question, in
surprise.  "They found a match safe with your
last name on it, in the basement."\par

Jack sprang up in astonishment.\par

"Was it a small silver safe, with a bear's head
on one side, and a lion's on the other?" he asked.\par

"Yes; then it is yours?"\par

"Yes, it's mine.  But I haven't seen it for
nearly a month," burst out the young machinist.
"I missed it out of my pocket, and suspected
Andy Mosey of having taken it, though I could
not prove it.  But I see it all now.  Mosey was
speaking of revenge up at the bank yesterday
morning, and he has done the deed, and used my
property to throw suspicion on me."\par

"But he wouldn't do such a mean thing unless
he had a grudge against you," remarked Mont.\par

"He has several of them.  More than once,
when he was drunk, and came interfering around
my work, I threatened to report him.  Besides, I
have the job he always thought his son Mike should have."\par

"I see.  But can you prove that he had the safe?"\par

"I don't think I can.  But I believe I can prove
that I lost it, and was home when the fire started?"\par

"Does Deb know you are here?" asked Mont, suddenly.\par

"Not unless some one else has let her know.
Will you take her a note?"\par

"Certainly; I was going to suggest that very
thing.  I intended to call on her."\par

Jack took the sheet of paper that Mont supplied
and wrote a few words of cheer to his sister.\par

"I'll tell her the particulars," said the young
man, as he pocketed the letter.  "Is there anything
else you want done?"\par

"Nothing now.  Maybe there will be later on."\par

"I'll do what I can for you," continued Mont,
"even if my uncle doesn't like it;" and he stepped
out of the cell.\par

Half an hour later Jack was brought out for
examination.  The court room was crowded with the
now idle men, and many were the expressions of
sympathy for the young machinist, and denunciation
for Mr. Felix Gray's hasty action.\par

The tool manufacturer himself did not appear.
The officer who made the arrest said that the
excitement of the past two days had made the
plaintiff quite ill.\par

The hearing was a brief one.  The match safe
was the only evidence produced against Jack, and
as he had no means of proving his innocence then
and there, it was decided to hold him to wait the
action of the grand jury, three weeks later.  Bail
was fixed at one thousand dollars--a sum that
was thought amply sufficient to keep any one from
becoming his bondsman.\par

Meanwhile, Mont had delivered the note, as
already recorded, and while being led out of the
court room, Jack recognized the young man in
the crowd, and an instant later found Deb at his
side.\par

"Oh, Jack!" was all the poor girl could say,
and clinging to his arms, she began to sob outright.\par

To see Deb cry made the young machinist feel
worse than did his incarceration.  He drew his
sister to one side--away from the public gaze, and
comforted her the best he could.\par

But the thought of going to prison was too
terrifying to be subdued.\par

"Three weeks before they will hear what you
have to say!" she exclaimed.  "If you could only
find that Mosey!"\par

"But he has left," put in Mont; "I tried everywhere
to find him.  Maybe you can get bail."\par

"I can't get it while I'm in prison," returned
Jack, gloomily.\par

"I'll take you anywhere you wish to go," said
the under-sheriff, who had him in charge.  He was
a married man, had daughters of his own, and Deb's
anguish went straight to his heart.\par

Jack thought a moment.  "Perhaps I might get
Mr. Benton to go on my bond," he said.\par

The man he referred to was the wealthy speculator
who had examined the model and praised the
invention.\par

"But he would want security.  Perhaps I'd have
to sign over my rights to him," he continued with
a sigh.\par

"It would be a shame to do that," said Mont.
"You expect so much from the patent."\par

"But you wouldn't lose it unless you ran away,"
put in Deb; "and of course you're not going to do that."\par

Jack gave another sigh.\par

"I'll go and see him anyway," he said.\par

\label{home-once-more}%
\hypertarget{home-once-more}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER VI.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ HOME ONCE MORE}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
A little later Jack and Mont separated, and in
company with the constable, the young
machinist called on Mr. Benton at the Coney House.\par

The speculator listened attentively to Jack's
story.  He was shrewd, a close reader of human
nature, and thought he saw a chance of securing a
bargain or of placing the embryo inventor under
obligation to him.\par

"Tell you what I'll do," he said.  "Give me a
paper securing to me your invention if you don't
turn up at the proper time, and I'll go your bond,
providing----" and here Mr. Benton paused.\par

"What?" asked Jack eagerly.\par

"Providing you give me a half interest in it now."\par

Jack staggered back.\par

"A half interest?"\par

"That's what I said."\par

"But, sir----"\par

"You haven't got to accept my offer if you
don't wish to," was the apparent indifferent reply.\par

Had he thought only of himself Jack would have
refused.  To give up that for which he had
worked for years was terribly hard.\par

But Deb, dear Deb, what would become of her
if he did not accept?\par

"I'll do it," he said, shortly.  And then, with a
sudden thought: "But you must give me a money
consideration."\par

"How much?" asked the man of means.\par

"One hundred dollars."  Jack knew Mr. Benton
would offer less.\par

"Too much!  I'll give you twenty-five."\par

"No; a hundred."\par

"Make it fifty.  I can't spare a cent more.
Besides, the thing may not be worth a dollar."\par

"Or several thousand," put in Jack.  "But I
accept the offer."\par

"Very well.  I'll pay you the money to-morrow.
I'm short to-day."\par

Knowing that with all his sharp business practice
Mr. Benton was a man of his word, the young
machinist did not object to waiting for his cash.\par

In his excitement he forgot all about Mr. Hammerby
and the rent that must be paid.\par

It was fully an hour before the necessary papers
were drawn up and signed, and then with hasty
steps Jack made his way home.\par

Deb met him at the door, and at once he had to
give her the particulars of what had been done.\par

"Never mind, anything is better than having
you in prison," she said when he had finished.
"And it may be just as well to have Mr. Benton
for a partner now as to give him the chance of
getting the whole thing later on."\par

Deb was delighted to learn that they were to
receive fifty dollars in cash the next day.\par

"I'll be so glad to get rid of that horrid agent,"
she declared, and showed Jack the notice to quit.\par

In looking it over he discovered that it had been
dated the day before.\par

"The mean fellow!" he exclaimed.  "He thinks
to get us out one day sooner than the law allows.
Won't he be astonished when I pull out the roll of
bills and pay him?"\par

In anticipation of the money soon to be received,
and in honor of Jack's release, Deb prepared quite
an elaborate dinner.\par

It nearly took her breath away when she discovered
that the outlay footed up to nearly a dollar--a
large sum for them.  But then her brother did
delight in cutlets, with potatoes and green corn,
and somehow the table wouldn't have looked
complete without some stewed prunes and a
pudding-dessert--the latter just fixed to tickle Jack's
palate.\par

During the meal Mont slipped in, and was
compelled to sit down with them.  He was delighted
to see the young machinist free, but shook his head
over the price that had been paid for liberty.\par

"What do you intend to do now?" he asked.\par

"Find Andy Mosey, if I can, and have him
arrested," replied Jack.  "It is the only way, I
believe, that I can clear myself."\par

"It isn't likely you will find him," remarked the
young man.  "He will no doubt keep shady for a
while."\par

"I shan't look for him to-day, excepting to strike
a clue," was the young machinist's reply.\par

After the meal was finished, and Mont had gone,
Jack announced his intention to do the repairs that
he had promised Farmer Farrell.\par

"I might as well do them at once," he said to
Deb, "it will be several dollars in pocket, and we
need all the money we can get now.  If this case
goes to trial I'll have to hire a lawyer, and they
charge heavily."\par

"So, I've heard," replied Deb, "but I wouldn't
mind that if only you get free."\par

"I'll try my best," replied Jack taking up his kit
of tools.\par

"When will you be back?" she asked as he
started to go.\par

"I can't say.  It depends on the job.  Don't
worry if it is late."\par

"All right; I'll keep the supper warm till you come."\par

So young, and yet a perfect housekeeper!\par

"She'll make some fellow a good wife one of
these days," said Jack to himself as he strode along.\par

It was a fine day, and the walk by the river side
was a delightful one, but the young machinist
scarcely noticed the surroundings.  His mind was
busy with the numerous difficulties that had risen
round him, and he endeavored to lay out a definite
plan of action by which to extricate himself.\par

When he arrived at the farm, he found his
acquaintance of the previous day hard at work on the
patent rake, which he had taken almost entirely
apart.\par

"Just in time, young man!" exclaimed farmer
Farrell, wiping the perspiration from his brow;
"I thought, seeing as how you didn't come this
morning, I'd see what I could do myself.  But the
job's a leetle too much for me.  I've got the pesky
thing apart and can't put two pieces together
again."\par

"That's because you don't understand machinery
and haven't the tools," replied the young machinist,
and taking off his coat, he set to work at once.\par

He picked out the worn screws and bolts and
substituted the new ones which he had brought.
Then he sorted out the various parts in their proper
order, and examined each critically.\par

"This bit of iron that guides the pressure spring
is warped," he remarked.  "Did the rake pull
hard when the left side was lower than the right?"\par

"Yes, and squeaked, too."\par

"Then, that's the cause of it, and all the oil in
the world wouldn't help it."\par

"Can you fix it?" asked the farmer, anxiously.\par

"I can if I can get a hot fire," replied Jack.\par

"I'll start it up at once," returned farmer
Farrell, and he disappeared into the house.\par

When he had the fire well under way, Jack
heated the part, and gave it the proper shape.
Then he put the machine together, adjusted it
carefully, and oiled the parts.\par

"Guess it's all right now," he said, lifting it over.\par

"We'll soon see," returned the farmer.  Going
to the barn he brought out one of the horses and
hitched him to the machine.  Then he mounted
the seat and drove up and down the field several
times.\par

"Works like a charm!" he declared.  "You
understand your trade and no mistake.  How much
for the job?"\par

This question was a stickler to Jack.  He did
not wish to ask too much, and he could not afford
to ask too little.\par

"They would charge you three dollars at the
machine shops," he said.\par

"Then I suppose that's what it's worth,"
continued the farmer.  He was a whole-souled man,
and was taken by Jack's outspoken manner.  "But
there's the other things to do yet," he continued.\par

"I know it; so we'll put this job at two
dollars," said the young machinist.\par

"Never mind, I'm satisfied to pay three,"
laughed farmer Farrell.  "Come into the barn;
I've found quite a lot of stuff that needs doctoring,
and I want you to put everything in first-class
shape."\par

"I'll do my best."\par

Farmer Farrell led the way, and Jack was soon
as busy as a bee, putting the machines in
running order and overhauling other farming
implements.\par{}

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"Why didn't you stop this morning?" asked
the farmer, presently.  He had intended going
reaping, but Jack's handy use of tools interested
him and made him linger.\par

In an easy manner that did not interfere with
his work, the young machinist narrated the
particulars of what had occurred to detain him.\par

"Well, now, that beats all!  Trouble piling
right up on top of ye!  Wonder if I don't know
this Mosey," continued the farmer, reflectively.
"Is he a short man with a red beard?"\par

"Yes."\par

"Didn't he use to work over to Redrock?"\par

"I believe he did."\par

"Then I reckon I do.  He's a bad egg.  I used
to sell the company he worked for hay for packing,
and Mosey used to weigh it.  Several times, when
I was sure it was correct, he reported short, and
when I spoke to him about it, he said it would
never be right until I made it right with him, or,
in other words, paid him for his good will."\par

"How did it turn out?" asked Jack, interested
in the story.\par

"Oh, I spoke of it to the owners, but they believed
his side of the story, and I lost their trade.
But, all the same, he was discharged a month later
for being drunk.  If I ain't mistaken, I saw him
pass early yesterday morning."\par

"I just wish I could lay hands on him," returned
the young machinist; "I don't believe he would
keep out of the way if he wasn't guilty."\par

"Maybe I'll see him," said the farmer.  "If I
do I'll watch him, and let you know."\par

It was close on to six o'clock when Jack finished
the work.  During the afternoon he had done jobs
for which he asked five dollars, and farmer Farrell,
who knew that he would have been charged twice
as much in the town, paid the bill without a murmur.\par

Ten minutes later, with his kit under his arm,
and the new five-dollar bill tucked safely in his
vest pocket, the young machinist started for home.\par

The sun was setting, and the road, shaded for its
greater part by large trees, was growing dark
rapidly.\par

About midway of the distance to Corney stood
an old mill, abandoned several years before, whose
disused water-wheel still hung idly over the swiftly
flowing river beneath.\par

It was a ghostly looking structure, and having
the reputation of being haunted, was seldom visited,
except by adventurous tourists and by amateur
photographers, who remained at a safe distance to
take views of the really picturesque locality.\par

As Jack passed the mill, he saw a man approach
from the opposite direction.  Judge of his
astonishment when he recognized the individual as
Andy Mosey!\par

He had seen the young machinist at the same
instant, and turning rapidly from the road, he
darted to one side of the mill.\par

For a second Jack stood still, hardly able to
move.  But he quickly recovered, and dropping
his kit, which was heavy, he started in pursuit.\par

"He shall not escape me," he resolved.  "He
is larger than I, but I am not afraid to meet him
face to face."\par

There was a large shed attached to the mill, and
entering this, the young machinist looked carefully
around to see if he could find any trace of the man.
But a brief search assured him that the place had
not been disturbed for months.\par

Passing through the partly open door, he entered
the lower floor of the mill, and found himself in the
presence of Dennis Corrigan, Mosey's brother-in-law.\par

"What do you want here?" demanded Corrigan,
springing up from the bench upon which he had
been seated.\par

Jack could hardly form a proper reply.  With
two men against him, he realized that he was in a
bad fix.\par

"Why, I didn't know that you were here,
Corrigan," he began.  "I thought----"\par

Jack never finished the sentence.  He heard a
noise behind him, but before he could turn to see
what it was, he received a cruel blow on the head,
and then all became a dark, terrible blank.\par

\label{into-the-river}%
\hypertarget{into-the-river}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER VII.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ INTO THE RIVER}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
Slowly and painfully, with a dull ache in his
head, and an uncertain look in his eyes, Jack
returned to his senses.  A thin stream of blood
trickled down his neck, and putting up his hand he
felt a large lump under the hair.\par

"It must have been Mosey who struck me," was
his first thought as he gathered his scattered
faculties together.  "Well, thank God, he didn't kill me."\par

It was some time before he felt any desire to
rise, and when he finally did so, he found himself
weaker than he had anticipated.\par

"The coward!" was the young machinist's
comment.  "To strike me unawares.  I knew he
disliked me, but hasn't he wronged me enough
already?"\par

Jack did not know--nor, indeed, could he have
understood--the bitter hatred the Irishman bore him.\par

The only pride of Andy Mosey's life was his bull
pup and his son Mike, and to have the young
machinist occupying a position he thought his son
should have, had always been more than this
hot-tempered fellow was inclined to bear.\par

The place in which Jack found himself was
totally dark, whether because it had no windows,
or because it was night, he could not tell.\par

He groped around, and seeing a ray of light
coming up from beneath, applied his eye to what
proved to be a knot-hole in the floor.\par

He was surprised to find the river flowing
directly below, and knew at once that he was in the
lowest part of the old mill, opposite the ancient
wheel.\par

"They must have carried me here," he said to
himself.  "I wonder how long ago?"\par

He felt his way along the walls, and at last
reached the door.  He was on the point of lifting
the latch, when it was thrown open, and by the
the rays of a lantern that at first dazzled him, he
saw himself confronted by Dennis Corrigan and
Andy Mosey.\par

"So ye'v cum to yer sinses at last, have ye?"
was Mosey's greeting, as he set down the lantern.
"Ye wint down moighty easy, so ye did."\par

"I'd like to know what right you have to treat
me in this shameful manner," demanded Jack,
indignantly.\par

"Never moind," returned the Irishman; "it
will teach ye a lesson not to tell lying stories about me."\par

"I haven't said anything but what I believe to
be true," replied Jack, pointedly.\par

"Sure, now, is that raly so?  Well, ye can suffer
for thinking wrong," continued Mosey.  "Oi
niver----"\par

"Oh, stop your everlasting jaw!" broke in
Corrigan, who was more practical in his way than his
brother-in-law.  "Never mind what you've done,
and what you haven't done.  The question is, what
are we to do with the boy, now he's here?"\par

The Irishman scratched his head.\par

"It won't do to let him go," he said.\par

"Suppose we search his pockets," suggested Corrigan.\par

Jack uttered an exclamation.\par

"What do you mean?" he demanded; "you wouldn't dare?"\par

Corrigan laughed.  The young machinist did not
yet know that this man was at heart a thorough
villain.\par

"Wait and see," he remarked, coolly.  "Put
your back to the door, Andy, and don't let him
escape."\par

Corrigan was a heavily built and powerful man,
and in his present condition Jack knew that he was
no match for such an opponent.\par

"What do you want?" asked the young machinist.\par

"Want to see what you have with you.  Come, show up."\par

Jack's head still ached from the rough treatment
it had received.  He did not wish to court another
such blow, and so did as demanded.\par

A knife, ten cents, the five-dollar bill farmer
Farrell had given him, and a copy of his agreement
with Mr. Benton were all the articles of value that
he carried.\par

"Here's something for you, Andy," observed
Corrigan, tossing over the ten-cent piece.  "The
price of a drink."\par

Corrigan quietly slipped the five-dollar bill into
his own clothes.  Then opening the agreement, he
held it near the lantern and read it carefully.  It
seemed to interest him greatly, and muttering
something to himself, he shoved it into the inside
pocket of his coat.\par

"Do you intend to rob me outright?" exclaimed
Jack, whose blood boiled at such treatment.\par

"If that's what you call it, I suppose we do,"
was Corrigan's reply.\par

The young machinist was now becoming more
used to the situation, and he determined to submit
no longer.  He noticed that Mosey had unconsciously
moved to one side, and watching his
chance, he sprang for the door.\par

But Corrigan was too quick for him, and with a
reach of his long arm he caught the young machinist
by the collar, and held him until Mosey had
again reached the door.\par

Jack's grit was up and he wrestled with all his
strength.  He caught his antagonist by the waist,
and literally threw him to the floor.\par

"Hit him.  Andy, hit him!" screamed
Corrigan, trying to regain his feet.\par

Mosey approached Jack with the same stick he
had used in the first encounter.  The young
machinist caught the blow upon the left arm, and
retaliated by landing one square from the shoulder on
the Irishman's nasal organ.  He did not believe in
pugilism, but knew something of the art of
self-defense; and used his knowledge to good advantage.\par

He followed up the first blow by another, and
had just gained the door for the second time, when
Corrigan, with a vile exclamation, seized the heavy
brass lantern, and swinging it over his head,
brought it down with all force upon Jack's neck.\par

The blow half stunned the young machinist, and
before he could recover he was on his back, with
Corrigan on top of him.\par

"Phat shall we do?" asked Mosey in bewilderment.
Jack's unexpected attack had surprised and
dismayed him.\par

"Get that rope upstairs," gasped Corrigan,
who was well-nigh winded; "we'll bind him so
tight that he won't give us any more trouble."\par

The Irishman disappeared for a few moments.\par

When he returned he held a stout cord in his
hand, with which the two bound the young
machinist securely, hands and feet.\par

"We'll leave him here for the present," said
Corrigan, when they had finished their work.
"Come on," and taking up the lantern, which in
spite of its rough usage still remained lit, he led the
way up stairs followed by Mosey.\par

"Well, I'm in a pretty fix, and no mistake,"
was Jack's mental decision when alone.  "So far,
my exertions to gain freedom haven't amounted to
anything.  But if they think that I'm going to give
up already, they are mistaken."\par

He tugged at the cords, and by a strong effort
managed, though not without painful squeezing, to
pull his feet free.\par

His hands, however, were placed altogether too
closely to allow of a similar proceeding, and he
endeavored to find some means of cutting the
fastening.\par

He remembered that the latch of the door was a
rusty one, and rough on its lower side.  Walking
over to this, he began to rub the cord along the
edge in the hope of severing it, but the improvised
saw--if it might be called such--was not a handy
tool, and half an hour passed before he made any
material progress.\par

"It's mighty slow work," he said to himself:
"but it's bound to wear away sooner or later."\par

Presently a heavy step sounded outside on the
stairs, and a moment later Andy Mosey pitched
into the room.\par

He was in a sad state of intoxication, and his
face was red with anger.\par

"Been tellin' foine sthories about me!" he
exclaimed.  "Saying I sthole yer match-box an' set
foire to old Gray's house!  Oi'll fix ye!"\par{}

\begin{figure}[h!tbp]
\label{figure-93}%
\hypertarget{figure-93}{}%
\label{been-tellin-sthories-about-me-he-exclaimed-sayin-i-sthole-yer-match-box-an-set-foire-to-old-gray-s-house-oi-ll-fix-ye}%
\hypertarget{been-tellin-sthories-about-me-he-exclaimed-sayin-i-sthole-yer-match-box-an-set-foire-to-old-gray-s-house-oi-ll-fix-ye}{}%
\noindent\hfill{}\begin{minipage}{0.800\textwidth}
\begin{container}
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{[}image{]}
\endgraf}
\par
\end{container}

\vs{1}
{\noindent}
{\centerleft{{\itshape{"BEEN TELLIN' FOINE STHORIES ABOUT ME!" HE EXCLAIMED.  "SAYIN' I STHOLE YER MATCH-BOX AN' SET FOIRE TO OLD GRAY'S HOUSE!  OI'LL FIX YE!"}}
}}
\end{minipage}
\hfill{}
\end{figure}

He held a heavy stick in his hand, and as he
spoke he brought it down with full force on Jack's
head.  The young machinist went down like a shot.\par

"Tellin' loies about me!" continued Mosey, as
he dragged the half senseless body to the water's edge.\par

"Help!  Help!" cried Jack, in a feeble voice.\par

But his cries were of no avail, and the next
instant the young machinist was being swept by the
rushing tide down the stream, to the roaring falls
below.\par

\label{something-about-the-model}%
\hypertarget{something-about-the-model}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER VIII.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ SOMETHING ABOUT THE MODEL}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
Deb grew anxious when seven o'clock came and
Jack did not put in an appearance.  Under
ordinary circumstances, she would not have minded
it, but the events of the past two days combined to
make her worry more than usual.  She sat by the
window, watching the stream of people returning
from work, and then, when it was half after the
hour, put on her hat and descended to the street below.\par

She walked slowly in the direction of the
Redrock road, in hope of meeting her brother.  At
the end of three blocks, she came face to face with
Mont Gray, who had just been finishing up some
accounts at the tool works.\par

"Where are you going, may I ask?" he said,
with a smile.\par

"To meet Jack," replied Deb.  "He ought to
be home by this time."\par

"Perhaps the work took longer than he
expected," observed the young man.  "You know
he hates to leave a job until it's done."\par

"Oh, I know that.  But I wish he would come,
anyway; I can't bear to have him away now."\par

"Depend upon it, he can take good care of
himself," added Mont.  "Come, shall I walk home
with you?"\par

"I suppose I might as well go," returned the
girl, slowly, and turned back.  "Oh, I'm so
awfully nervous," she added.\par

"Your troubles have been too much for you,"
he answered, kindly.  "They would have been for
almost any one."\par

Though Mont's capital was, as we know, rather
limited, he was anxious to help Deb and Jack all
he could.  Yet he hardly knew how to broach the
subject.\par

"Did you--did Mr. Hammerby call again?"
he asked, hesitatingly.\par

"Yes, and gave us a three days' notice to quit,"
replied the girl.  "He----"\par

"He shall not put you out!" exclaimed the
young man, vehemently.  "It's an outrage!  It's
bad enough for my uncle to believe your brother
guilty, but to put you out----"\par

"But we are not going," continued Deb.\par

"I don't blame you.  If I can help you----?"
he began.\par

"No, you don't understand," returned Deb,
quickly.  "It's real good of you to offer help, but
we don't need it," and she told him of the money
Mr. Benton was to pay over on the following
morning.\par

"I'm glad to hear you're going to get some cash
out of that man," remarked Mont.  "Although even
so, he made a sharp bargain with Jack."\par

A few minutes later they reached the house.\par

"Will you come up?" asked Deb.\par

"I haven't time," he replied.  "I've got to do
an errand for my uncle.  Maybe afterward, if I
have a chance I'll take a look for Jack, and come up
with him."\par

"Oh, I wish you would," she returned, "I
know it's dreadfully silly for me to be so easily
worried, but I can't help it."\par

"Oh, it's all right, I suppose.  If I was in his
place maybe I'd like to be worried about, too," and
away went Mont, whistling quite a merry air.\par

The young girl entered the kitchen and lit the
lamp.  It was now half-past eight, and as the
people of the neighborhood were hard workers.
who retired early, the streets were comparatively quiet.\par

She left the supper dishes upon the table, and
putting some extra coal into the stove, set the tea
and other things so that they might keep warm.\par

It was a dreary evening for her.  She did not
care much to read--actual life interested her far
more than books--and now all her thoughts were
centered on Jack.\par

"It's a pretty long walk from that farmer's
place," she kept saying to herself.  "But he will
come soon, oh, he must come soon."\par

Her reflections were broken by hearing an
unknown step upon the stairs, followed by a sharp
rap at the door.\par

Hardly knowing whom to expect at this hour of
the night, she bade the person enter.\par

The newcomer was Dennis Corrigan!\par

Deb did not know the man.  She had seen him
on the streets, but though he was fairly well
dressed, she was not taken by his general appearance.\par

"Does Jack Willington live here?" asked Corrigan,
with a hasty glance around the kitchen, to see
who might be present.\par

"Yes, sir," replied Deb, and then realizing that
the man might have news for her, she continued
quickly: "Did he send you?"\par

"Yes, Miss.  He said I was to get a model that
he had here."\par

This assertion surprised the girl.  What in the
world could Jack want with his model this time of
night?\par

"Where is my brother?" she asked.\par

Corrigan was not prepared to answer this question.\par

"He is--down the street," he stammered.\par

"Where?"\par

"Why--down in McGlory's saloon."\par

This reply was a fatal blunder for Corrigan, who
by a little scheme of his own, had proposed to get
the model into his possession without any difficulty.\par

"In McGlory's saloon!" repeated Deb, in
amazement.  "Why, Jack doesn't drink."\par

"Oh, yes, he does--once in a while," replied
Corrigan, glibly.\par

"You're mistaken!" returned Deb, sharply.
"What does he want the model for?"\par

She was growing a trifle suspicious.  The article
in question was valuable, and just now doubly so.\par

"I don't know what he's going to do with it.
Got it handy?"\par

Involuntarily Deb glanced over to where the
model stood covered with a cloth.  She regretted
the action an instant after, for Corrigan's eyes
watched her closely.\par

"How far is that saloon from here?" she asked.\par

"Only a few blocks."\par

"Queer he didn't come for it himself."\par

"He was too busy.  He asked me to go for him,
and sent this paper as an order.  He said you'd
know all about it," replied Corrigan, and he handed
out the agreement he had stolen from Jack.\par

Deb recognized the paper at once.  Jack must
certainly have given it to the man, and yet, for a
reason she could not explain, she felt that all was
not right.\par

One thing she remembered; her brother had repeatedly
cautioned her not to let outsiders examine
the model under any plea.  To place it, therefore,
in a stranger's hands seemed a risk she did not care
to assume.\par

"What's the matter?" asked Corrigan, as Deb
still hesitated.  "Ain't it all right?"\par

He was growing uneasy, fearful of being
interrupted just at the moment when the prize was
almost within his grasp.\par

"I would rather have my brother come for it
himself," said the girl finally.\par

"He can't come; he's too busy," persisted the
intruder.\par

"It wouldn't take long to get it if he is only a
few blocks away."\par

"Yes, but he doesn't want to leave.  He has a
chance of selling it to a man for big money, and
he's afraid the man may back out if he leaves him."\par

Deb was sorely perplexed.  The man might be
speaking the truth, in which case she did not for
the world wish Jack to lose the chance of striking
a bargain.\par

"So I'll take it right along at once," continued
Corrigan, stepping over to where the model stood.\par

But, at this instant, a bright idea came into the
girl's head.  She knew that she could trust
Mr. Snitzer, or one of his sons, and was sure that any
one of them would do her a favor willingly.\par

"You need not take so much trouble," she
exclaimed, stepping between the man and the model.
"Just leave the address of the place, and I will
send it up at once."\par

This was a staggerer for Corrigan, and he knew
not how to answer.\par

"No, I'll take it myself," he replied, roughly.\par

His words sent a dreadful chill to Deb's heart.
In an instant she realized the man's true object,
and her own helpless condition.\par

"What do you mean?" she cried in terror.\par

"I mean that if you won't give me the model
I'll take it."\par

The words had hardly been uttered before Deb
gave a terrible scream.\par

"Stop your noise!" hissed Corrigan, jumping
to her side, and clapping his hand over her mouth.\par

The girl struggled to escape, but she was as a
feather in this powerful fellow's arms, and half
fainting, she felt herself borne into the next room,
and the door locked upon her.\par

Then she heard Corrigan pick up the model, and
hurry down the stairs and out of the house.\par

\label{mr-benton-makes-trouble}%
\hypertarget{mr-benton-makes-trouble}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER IX.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ MR. BENTON MAKES TROUBLE}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
"Help!  Help!"\par

"Vas is dot?" exclaimed Mrs. Snitzer,
who had been dozing in the rocking chair awaiting
her son's return.\par

"Sounds like some von vas in troubles," replied
her husband, from the sofa.\par

Both sprang to their feet and hurried to the door.\par

Mrs. Snitzer had scarcely opened it when a man
rushed past her and out of the front hall-way.\par

"Help!  Help!"\par

"It vas Deb, for sure!" cried the German
woman, and she ascended the stairs as fast as her
portly form would permit, closely followed by her
husband.\par

It took but a moment to pass through the kitchen
and unlock the door of the adjoining chamber.
They found Deb half dead from fright, and vainly
endeavoring to escape.\par

"Oh, Mrs. Snitzer, a man has just stolen Jack's
model!" gasped the poor girl.  "He ran down
stairs."\par

"Ve saw him," put in Mr. Snitzer.  "I go me
after him," he continued, hurrying off as rapidly
as his legs would move.\par

"Oh, what will Jack say when he hears that it's
gone!" moaned Deb.\par

"Tell me apout it," said the kindly German woman.\par

She took the excited girl in her arms, and stroking
the soft, curly hair, tried to calm Deb as best
she could.\par

In a nervous voice the girl told her story.  She
was on the verge of hysterics, and it was only
Mrs. Snitzer's quick sense of comprehension that
enabled her fully to understand the situation.\par

In about ten minutes Mr. Snitzer returned.  The
look upon his face told plainly that he had failed
in the pursuit.\par

"It vas no use," he said, "I couldn't see nodding
of him;" and he dropped into a chair exhausted.\par

Deb's grief was hard to witness.  It was bad
enough to have Jack away, but to have some one
steal his precious model, the idea of his life, was
too dreadful to contemplate.\par

"I shall never get over it," she sobbed; "I ought
to have been more careful!"\par

Mrs. Snitzer let her cry it out.  Experience had
taught her that it would do no good to check the
flow of tears.  She motioned her husband to leave,
while she herself made preparations to stay all night.\par

As the hours wore on Deb for a while forgot
the model in her anxiety concerning Jack's
welfare.  As long as she could remember, her brother
had never remained away over night, and whether
by premonition or otherwise, she was positive
something dreadful had happened.\par

With the first break of day she was on the
watch.  She prepared no breakfast, nor did she
touch that which the German woman generously
offered.\par

Deb wandered up and down the street for two hours.\par

Still no Jack.\par

She visited the neighbors.  Had this one seen
him?  No.  Perhaps that one had?  Not since
yesterday morning.\par

Suddenly she grew very pale, and with faltering
steps approached the jail.\par

The doorkeeper greeted her with evident surprise.\par

"What brings you here this morning?" he asked.\par

"My brother has been missing since last night,"
replied Deb, in a choking voice, "and I thought
that perhaps you had--had locked him up again!"\par

"Why, no.  Haven't seen him since he left,"
replied the man.  "Missing, eh!"  He gave a
low whistle, "Hope he hasn't jumped his bail."\par

"What do you mean?"\par

"Run away to escape trial."\par

"Jack wouldn't do that."\par

"Can't tell.  Fellows do unexpected things
sometimes.  So you don't know where he's gone?"\par

"No."\par

The doorkeeper reflected for a moment.\par

"Didn't he accuse somebody else of being the
cause of the fire?" he asked.\par

"Yes, sir; he was almost certain it was done by
a man named Mosey."\par

"And I believe this Mosey couldn't be found?"\par

"Yes, sir."\par

"Then maybe your brother has a clue, and is on
the man's track."\par

This put the affair in a new light.\par

"Perhaps you are right," said Deb, slowly.\par

"Guess I am.  Hope so, anyway."\par

"Thank you."\par

The girl breathed more freely when she got to
the street.  There was a good deal of consolation
in what the doorkeeper had said.\par

She walked over toward the tool works, and saw
Mont at one of the windows.  A second later the
young man came out with a packet of letters.\par

"I've just finished what remained of the work,"
he said.  "Now I won't have hardly anything to
do until we start up again."\par

He was surprised to learn that Jack had not yet
put in his appearance.\par

"The doorkeeper must be right," he observed
reflectively.  "Who it was though, that stole the
model, I can't imagine.  Tell you what I'll do.
I'll post these letters, and then walk out to that
farmer's place and find out what I can."\par

When Deb returned home she found a man and
a boy in the hall, waiting for her.\par

"Are you Miss Willington?" asked the man, politely.\par

"Yes, sir."\par

"Then I'm sorry, but unless you are able to pay
the rent that is due, I have orders to put you out of
the house."\par

Deb shrunk back in horror.\par

"Out of the house?" she repeated!\par

"Yes, ma'am, Mr. Hammerby served you with
a three days' notice to quit, I believe?"\par

"He did--two days ago."\par

"Three days----"\par

"No, only two."\par

"Will you please let me see the paper?"\par

"He dated it a day back," explained Deb.\par

The man shrugged his shoulders.\par

"If he did, you should have complained of it at
the time.  I am a constable, and we people always
go by the paper.  I'm sorry to disturb you."\par

"Where will you--you put us?" faltered the
girl, with a white face.\par

"Set your goods in the street," was the
matter-of-fact reply.  The constable was old in the
service, and many cruel scenes had hardened his heart.\par

"Into the street!" wailed the poor girl.\par

"That's what I said, unless, of course, you can
raise the eight dollars that's due."\par

"I haven't it now.  But my brother expected to
get fifty dollars from a man for an interest in an
invention of his."\par

"When?"\par

"To-day.  But my brother is away."\par

"Can't you get it?"\par

"Perhaps I can," replied Deb, hesitatingly.
"I'll try, anyway.  Will you wait till I come back?"\par

"Certainly," replied the constable, and he took
a chair, and began to read the morning paper that
he had brought with him.\par

While Deb was getting ready for her urgent
errand, there was a noise outside, and Mr. Benton
himself appeared.\par

"Where is your brother?" he demanded, without
any preliminary salutation.\par

"I don't know, sir," replied the girl, her breath
almost taken away by the suddenness of the question.\par

"They told me he was missing," continued the
speculator.  "I suppose that you have the model safe?"\par

"No, sir.  It was stolen last evening."\par

Deb began to cry again.  Mr. Benton caught
her arm roughly.\par

"I don't believe a word you say!" he
exclaimed, in harsh tones.  "It's only a plot to do
me out of my rights!  But it won't work,
understand that, it won't work.  Either you must
produce the model, or else I'll have you arrested for
fraud!"\par

\label{driven-from-home}%
\hypertarget{driven-from-home}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER X.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ DRIVEN FROM HOME}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
Deb looked at Mr. Benton in horror.  It was
only after several seconds that she fully
realized the terrible accusation which he had
brought against her.\par

"A plot!" she faltered.  "What do you mean?"\par

"Only this," continued Mr. Benton, "your
brother has run away to escape trial, and he has
taken the model with him.  You have helped him
to do this.  But it won't work.  I pay my way,
and a bargain's a bargain.  If I have to pay the
thousand dollars, I'll have the model or I'll know
the reason why."\par

"But how do you know Jack has run away?"\par

"If he hasn't, where is he?"\par

"He went to a job in the country yesterday
morning and hasn't returned yet."\par

"And you expect me to believe that story?"
sneered the speculator.\par

"It's the truth," replied Deb, bursting into
tears.  "I'm sure Jack will come back.  The
model was stolen by a man who said my brother
had sent him for it."\par

"And are you positive that your brother did not
send him for it?"\par

"Almost, sir, because the man ran away with it
when I promised to send it by some one else."\par

"Humph!  Well, we'll see; I'll let the matter
rest until to-morrow, and then we'll have a settlement."\par

With these words Mr. Benton pulled his hat
more tightly than usual over his small, round head,
and tripped down the stairs and out of the building.\par

Deb's heart sank like a clod.  Her last hope was
gone.  She had counted on getting help from the
speculator, and the result had been directly
the opposite.\par

"Rec'on you won't get anything out of him,"
was the constable's grim comment.  He had
listened in silence to the brief interview, and now
arose to continue his disagreeable but necessary
duty.\par

"Isn't there any way at all of having this thing
stopped?" asked the girl, bitterly.\par

"No; unless you get the money," was the
man's reply, and pulling off his coat, he took up a
couple of chairs, and marched down stairs.\par

Deb jumped up and followed him.  Her heart
beat wildly, and something in her throat nearly
choked her.  What could she do?  Her thoughts
ran to Mrs. Snitzer.  She knew the kind German
woman needed money as much as any of the tool
works people did, but perhaps she could give some
help, or offer some advice.\par

She flew to the door of her neighbor's
apartments, and knocked eagerly.  No answer came,
and then she knocked more loudly than ever.\par

Suddenly she remembered that Mrs. Snitzer had
signified her intention of taking her whole family
to her brother's farm for a few days, and possibly
until the end of the shut-down.\par

"It's no use, they're all gone!" she sighed.
"There is no help to be had!"\par

Meanwhile the constable worked rapidly.  In
his time he had been in situations where the
neighbors had interfered with him, and he wished to get
away as soon as possible.\par

Soon there was quite a respectable stock of
furniture and other household effects piled upon the
sidewalk.  Deb packed up the smaller stuff as fast
as she could--the china and crockery in baskets,
and the clothing and linen in the two old family
trunks.  Truth to admit, the constable did not
hurry her a bit more than he could help.\par

Presently Deb went below to see that no one
should walk away with some of their belongings.
Her eyes were red and swollen, and a more
wretched girl could not have been found in all
Corney.\par

As she sat down on one of the upturned wash
tubs she wondered what she was to do.  She had
no neighbors, and with the exception of the
Snitzers they were all strangers to her--they on their
part deeming her "stuck up," and perhaps rejoicing
to see her placed in her present humiliating position.\par

The wild hope of Jack's return came constantly
to her mind, and twice she ran down to the corner
vainly straining her eyes to catch sight of his
well-known form.\par

"If I had only accepted Mont's aid," she
thought, "I wonder where I could find him?"\par

Presently the constable brought down the very
last of the goods, and locking up the rooms, went
away.\par

"Why, Deb, I declare, I didn't know you were
going to move.  You didn't say anything of it last
Sunday.  How lucky I came before you were gone! or,
perhaps, how unlucky to come when you are
all upside down.  Never mind, go right ahead, and
don't pay any attention to me.  It's an awful job,
isn't it?  I haven't experienced moving in ten
years, but I remember well that I didn't get
straightened out for two months, and then it took
twice that long to get accustomed to the new place.
Where did you say you were moving to?"\par

And having thus delivered herself in one breath,
the speaker, a middle-aged lady, who wore blue
glasses, and was slightly deaf, took Deb's hand in
a quick, nervous grasp, and peered into the care-worn face.\par

"Oh, Miss Parks, we are not moving at all!"
cried out the girl, laying her head on her
Sunday-school teacher's shoulder.\par

"Glad I called?" queried Miss Parks, misunderstanding
her.  "Well, now, seeing things as they
are, I didn't expect it.  But, maybe I can help
you.  I'm not overdressed, so just tell me what to
do, and I'll go right to work.  Hasn't the
truck-man come yet?"\par

"We--are--not--moving," repeated Deb,
putting her mouth close to Miss Parks's ear.\par

"No?  Why--why--then something dreadful
has happened, all your furniture out here on the
sidewalk, with the dust a-blowing on 'em.  What
is it--fire?  That's a dreadful thing.  Even if
things are not burned up, the smoke gets in 'em,
and you can't get it out."\par

"It isn't fire," returned the unhappy girl, "it's
because we can't pay the rent."\par

"Oh, dear!"  Miss Parks was all sympathy at
once.  "I thought your brother was doing pretty
well now," she added.\par

"So he was.  But the tool works have shut
down, and we can't get a cent from the bank."\par

The elderly maiden caught at the words.\par

"The bank!  Isn't it awful.  They wouldn't
give me mine, yesterday, and I wanted it the
worst way, too.  But tell me about your trouble."\par

In a few words, spoken as plainly as possible,
Deb poured her tale into the lady's ear.\par

"I heard about your brother being arrested for
the fire," remarked Miss Parks.  "But I didn't
believe it.  Mr. Long says Jack is such a good
fellow, and such an excellent scholar."\par

"I'm glad you think so," burst out the girl.
"Oh, Miss Parks, if people only knew Jack as
well as I do, they wouldn't say such horrid things
about him."\par

"Well, dear, we all have our trials, and must
ask Him to help us bear them," replied the elderly
maiden, with sincere piety.  "But about the rent.
How much is it?"\par

"Six dollars."\par

"Not much, truly.  But it's more than I have,
or I'd pay it in a minute.  Have you any money at
all?"\par

"Not over three dollars."\par

Miss Parks drew out her pocketbook, and
examined the contents.\par

"Just a dollar," she exclaimed.  "I declare we
are both poor, with money in the bank, too."  She
paused a moment in deep thought.  "I'll tell you
what you might do."\par

"What?" asked Deb, eagerly.\par

"Move your things down to my house.  I'll let
you have the back bedroom and attic, and when
you're settled we'll see what is to be done.  Jack
will be back before a great while, I'm certain."\par

Miss Parks was entirely alone in the world.  The
house that she occupied was her own, left her by an
invalid uncle, whom she had nursed constantly
during the last four years of his life.  She was a
dress-maker, and a lady's companion, and earned a fair
living--a goodly portion of which found its way
to charity and the church--for she was a devout
Christian, and an earnest worker in the cause.\par

"Oh, thank you!" cried Deb, a heavy weight
taken from her mind.  "But won't it be
inconvenient for you?"\par

"Not a bit.  In fact I think I'll enjoy company."\par

"Then I'll accept your offer," continued the
girl, "And I think it is real good of you to let
me come."\par

Miss Parks bent down and kissed the tired cheeks.\par

"You're a good girl, Deb," she said.  "You
don't deserve such a trial as this."\par

A little later a truckman was engaged who
speedily transferred the household goods to Deb's
new home.\par

\label{on-the-river-road}%
\hypertarget{on-the-river-road}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XI.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ ON THE RIVER ROAD}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
Mont Gray hastened to the Corney postoffice
with all possible speed.  For his own sake,
as well as for Deb's he wished to dispatch his
business as quickly as possible, so as to devote the
remainder of the day to hunting up Jack.\par

He was afraid that something out of the ordinary
had befallen his friend.  He had not wished to add
to Deb's already deep anxiety, but he knew Jack
too well to imagine that the young machinist would
willfully keep his sister in ignorance of his whereabouts.\par

This feeling upon the young man's part might
not have been so strong had all other surroundings
been more tranquil.  But since the shut-down at
the tool works the air had been filled with murmurs
of dissatisfaction--augmented largely by the
suspension of the bank, and everywhere there
prevailed a vague feeling that something was about
to happen.\par

One thing was certain.  Not a single one of his
employes were satisfied with Mr. Felix Gray's
management, and there were plenty of hot-headed
men who wished him joy over his burnt mansion.\par

It did not take Mont long to post the letters, and
then he struck out at once for the Farrell place.\par

It was a glorious morning, bright and clear, and
when he reached the Redrock road he found the
birds singing as merrily as could be.\par

In spite of the unpleasant things that had
happened, Mont felt wonderfully light-hearted, the
secret of which was that he was doing something
for Deb--a service which he knew she would
appreciate, and one which, therefore, he was more
than willing to do.\par

As the young man walked along the river bank
whistling cheerily to himself he espied a man
coming toward him.\par

A moment later he recognized the individual as
Andy Mosey.\par

"Wonder what he is doing out here," said
Mont to himself.  "Perhaps the prison keeper was
right, and Jack is on his track--may be watching
his chance to get evidence to convict him."  When
the discovery took place Mont was at a spot where
the road ran close to the bank, and here he waited
for the Irishman to come up.\par

As Mosey approached, it was easy to see that he
had been drinking heavily.  In truth it was but the
continuance of his potations of the previous day.\par

"He had better take care, or he'll go over the
bank, sure," was the young man's mental observation,
as he watched the reeling form.\par

As Mosey drew nearer Mont noticed that his
eyes were deeply sunken, and that despite the
drink, his face looked pale and haggard.\par

"Possibly he is worried over his wrongdoings,"
thought Mont, hitting more truth than he imagined.
"It's a pity such a strong fellow can't keep
from liquor."\par

The Irishman shuffled directly toward Mont,
without apparently noticing him.\par

"Hello," exclaimed the young man, sharply.
"Where bound?"\par

The Irishman started up in surprise.\par

"Where you--hic--goin'?" he asked.\par

"I'm looking for Jack Willington.  Have you seen him?"\par

Mosey gave a shudder.  The remembrance of that
awful scene in the old mill still hung in his mind.\par

"No--hic--no," he answered hastily.  "Oi
haven't see the b'y for two days," and he gave a
lurch outward.\par

"Take care!" exclaimed Mont.  "If you tumble
over that bank you'll never get out again."\par

The Irishman drew as far away as possible from
the water.\par

"You're roight, Mont, me b'y," he mumbled.
"It's sure death, and no--hic--foolin'."\par

"So you're certain that you haven't seen Jack?"
continued Mont.  "He has been out here I know."\par

The effect of his last words was a truly
astonishing one.  With a cry of drunken rage, Mosey
sprang toward him, his eyes blazing with fury.\par

"Ye can't come it over--hic--me!" he shouted.
"Ye think ye're schmart, but yo're left this--hic--toime."\par

"What do you mean?" ejaculated Mont.\par

The extraordinary change in the Irishman's
manner nearly dumbfounded him.\par

"Ye know well enough."\par

"Then you have seen him?" exclaimed the young
man.  "Oh, I see.  He knows a thing or two
about you, and----"\par

"He don't know--hic--nothin',--now,"
hiccoughed the Irishman.  The liquor had muddled
his brain.\par

"What!" gasped Mont, with a sudden sense of
horror.  "You--you----" he began.\par

He was standing with his heels against a small
rock that overhung the bank.\par

"Ye can foind out fer--hic--yerself!" snarled
Mosey, and with a quick spring he gave the young
man a push that sent him spinning over backward.
Mont tried to catch hold of the rock, but the smooth
surface slipped from under his hands.  He grasped
the small bushes--they came out by the roots.  He
felt himself going down--down;--the glint of
the sunshine upon the water sparkled in his face
and then?\par{}

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Mosey got down flat on the rocks and crawling
to the edge, peered over the bank.  He saw Mont's
hat rise to the surface, and float swiftly along with
the bounding stream.\par

"He's gone!" he muttered, hoarsely, after waiting
for further signs of his victim.  "Gone to the
bottom!"\par

He crawled back to the middle of the road, and
arose to his feet.\par

The awful occurrence had for the time sobered
him, and he moved forward without a stagger.\par

"Bad worruk Oi'm doin'!" he muttered to himself.
"Phat will Dennis say?"\par

The thought of his brother-in-law's possible
condemnation of his actions made him shiver.  He
turned and slowly retraced his steps from whence
he had come.  He had not quite reached the spot
when Corrigan's voice sounded in his ear.\par

"Where have you been?" he demanded.\par

"Oi thought Oi'd go to Corney, but Oi changed
me moind," was Mosey's reply.\par

"Good thing you did.  They want you up there."\par

"Phat for?"\par

Mosey had stopped at the door, and now looked
at his brother-in-law sharply.\par

"Oh, for setting fire to Gray's house," said
Corrigan, with a laugh.\par

"Oh, Oi thought----" the Irishman suddenly
checked himself.  "Say, Oi didn't see ye on the
road," he continued.\par

"I came up by the back way," replied Corrigan.\par

"Phy?"\par

Corrigan made no reply.  To tell the truth, he
did not wish Mosey to know that he had stolen
Jack's model, and that precious article was now
safely hidden in the loft of the mill.\par

"Phy don't ye answer me question?" continued
Andy Mosey.\par

"Oh, I thought I'd try the other way for a
change," said Corrigan, as lightly as possible.
"How is the young fellow?" he continued, changing
the subject.\par

"He's--he's gone," faltered Mosey.  "He--he
had a mishap, and fell into the wather."\par

"Drowned?"\par

"Yes."\par

Corrigan gave a whistle of surprise.  He was on
the point of asking the particulars, but suddenly
changed his mind.\par

"Well, I'm glad he's out of the way," he declared.\par

Mosey walked into the mill, and sat down on a
bench, the picture of fear and misery.  Corrigan
did not pay any further attention to him, but went
upstairs and examined the model he had stolen.\par

"It is a beautiful piece of work!" was his
mental comment, "and if I only work it right I'll
make a neat stake out of it!" he added as he hid
it away again.\par

\label{jack-s-dangerous-position}%
\hypertarget{jack-s-dangerous-position}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XII.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ JACK'S DANGEROUS POSITION}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
Meanwhile how had Jack fared?\par

His last cry for help had been cut short by
his plunge into the river.  With his hands still
bound tightly behind him, he felt himself sink
many feet, and then a few seconds later he regained
the surface, and shook the water from his face.  He
found that the swiftly flowing tide had carried him
several rods from the old mill, and well out toward
mid-stream.\par

"I'm surely lost!" he said to himself with a
shudder.  "The falls are not more than a quarter
of a mile below, and when I reach there----"\par

A shiver finished the sentence.  In time past he
had heard of several persons being carried over,
and not one had lived to tell the story.  What hope
was there then for him?\par

He remembered that half way to the falls the
stream narrowed considerably where the tide rushed
with a roar that was deafening, and there were
several huge rocks.  Perhaps, if he could gain one of
these, when morning came he might devise some
means of escape.\par

He tried his best to slip off the cord from his
wrists, which was the same cord that had been
fastened to his feet, and which now dragged a
considerable distance behind him.  But the hemp was
water soaked, and cut into his flesh until it bled.\par

On and on he was carried.  It seemed that every
instant the speed increased.  It was useless to cry
out--no one was near, even if indeed, his voice
should reach the shore.  His mind was filled with
countless anxious thoughts.  What would his
friends think of his absence?  What would Mont
say?  What would Deb do if he was lost?\par

Thinking of his dear sister was more painful than
aught else, and he uttered a sincere prayer that his
life might be spared, for her sake, if not for his
own.\par

Presently, through the gloom came the noise of
the water as it washed over and around the rocks
below.\par

He lifted his head as high as possible, and
strained his eyes to get a view of the situation, but
water and foam were alone in sight.\par

Nearer and nearer he was now drawing.  The
water bubbled all around.  Then like a flash a black
object loomed to the right.\par

He struggled with all his power to gain it.
Kicking and plunging, his side struck a rock.\par

He tried to grasp it, but it slipped.  Another
and still another passed.  The water surged on all
sides.\par

Suddenly his feet touched bottom.  He threw
himself with all his force against the current.\par

"Now or never!" were his thoughts.  "For
home and Deb!"\par

He flung his body to one side where a sharp rock
stuck out of the water but a few inches, and, half
turning, he threw his arm partly over it.\par

His feet were swept from under him, and as
the cord upon his wrists still refused to part, his
shoulder was nearly dislocated by the strain that
was thus brought to bear.\par

Beside the sharp rock was another, and drawing
a long breath, he gradually worked his way until
he lay flat upon its surface.\par

This new resting place was not more than seven
feet in length by three in width, yet to Jack it
seemed a perfect island, so much more preferable
was it to the cold water of the stream.\par

The young machinist lay quiet for a long time.\par

He was utterly exhausted, and it was no easy
task to recover the wind that had been knocked
out of him.\par

After a while, he turned over and sat up.  He
was afraid to try standing, fearful of losing his
footing.\par

In the semi-darkness he calculated that the rocks
leading to either shore were fully fifteen or twenty
feet away--a distance which, in such a place as
this, was as bad as a mile, so far as reaching them
was concerned.\par

"If it was only a little lighter I might throw
out the rope and catch fast somewhere," he said to
himself.  "As it is, I suppose I'll have to wait till
morning."\par

But waiting was far from agreeable.  Had he
been sure of eventually escaping, it would have
been different, but the doubt of this rendered his
mind extremely uneasy.\par

Nearly an hour passed.  It grew darker, and one
by one the stars came out.\par

Ceaselessly the water tumbled and roared, as if
it knew not the meaning of rest.\par

As we know, he had had but little sleep the night
before, and now he was fagged out.  Several times
his eyes closed and his head nodded, but he always
came to his senses.\par

"It will never do to go to sleep here?" he
exclaimed.  "Guess I'll try shouting.  It will keep
me awake, if nothing else."\par

He used his lungs to their full capacity, yet his
voice was no stronger than the bleating of a lamb
in a hurricane.\par

"No one will ever hear me," was his dismal
comment, and then he stopped.\par

Another hour slowly passed.\par

To Jack it seemed like an age.  He was getting
benumbed by the cold water, and his limbs were
stiff and sore.  How long would it last?  How
long could it last?\par

Another hour!\par

It must surely be morning soon--he had been
there certainly a full night already.  Why didn't it
grow light?\par

His eyes closed for a moment--more from
exhaustion than sleep--and then they closed again.\par

Why, what was this?\par

Here he was safe at home!  There was the
supper table waiting, and Deb, in her neat, white
apron, pouring out the tea!  Now they sat down
together and began to eat, when, hold up--there
was a fire somewhere.  Was it in their home?
Yes, it must be for the fireman was at the window
with a hose--and it was Mr. Gray!  The water
struck Jack in the ear.\par

"Help!  help!  I----"\par

The young machinist awoke in horror.  He had
slipped from the rock, and was again being madly
whirled down the stream!\par

Oh! the agony of that moment!  Why had he
allowed himself to fall asleep?\par

Nothing but certain death now stared him in the face!\par

In the dim dawn he looked ahead and saw the
line of white that marked the last of the
breakwater above the awful descent.\par

"I'm gone, sure!" he sighed.  "Good-by to
home and Deb!"\par

On he swept with ever-increasing speed.  The
lofty brink was only a hundred feet away--now it
was seventy-five--now fifty!\par

With a terrible cry he flung himself back, as if to
ward off that which was inevitable.\par

Stop--what was this?  The cord that was
dragging behind him tightened; it grew tighter
still--it stopped his progress!\par

"If it only holds!" was his one thought.\par

He waited, and looked back to see how the hemp
had become fastened, but the surface of the water
was without a break.\par

It held, and as it gradually tightened more and
more, there slowly arose to the top, the limb of a
huge tree that had probably been carried down the
stream by the spring freshet.\par

The knot at the end of the rope had dragged
itself fast in a notch between two of the smaller
branches, and before it could loose itself, Jack
caught the larger branch, and locked his feet tightly
around it.\par

His weight threw the tree still more on its side,
and this placed him high and dry several feet above
the surface, and about a rod above the falls!\par

The position was a terrifying one.  It made him
dizzy to look at the boiling water as it fell, and the
vortex below was awful to contemplate.\par

"I suppose this tree won't stick fast forever," he
thought, "and even if it does, how can I ever hope
to reach shore from here?"\par

How long he remained in this trying position,
with life on one side, and death on the other, Jack
never knew.  He clung fast as never before, and
to secure himself still further, tied the rope fast to
the tree and to his own body.\par

It was now broad daylight.  Surely some one
passing on either shore would see and assist him.\par

But hour after hour dragged along, and no one
came.  It was getting toward noon, and the sun
sent a glare all over the sparkling water.\par

What was this dark object that was floating so
rapidly toward him?\par

A man!\par

The young machinist uttered an exclamation.
The body came within his reach, and leaning over,
he stayed its progress.\par{}

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The form was limp and motionless, the eyes closed.\par

Jack turned it over.\par

"Mont Gray!" he shrieked.  "Oh, Mont, Mont,
are you dead?"\par

\label{over-the-falls}%
\hypertarget{over-the-falls}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XIII.}}
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{\centering
{\normalsize{ OVER THE FALLS}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
Jack was never so amazed in his life as when he
discovered that the pale, senseless form that
he had dragged upon the tree beside him was no
less a person than his friend, Mont Gray.  But at
that moment, he did not stop to question how the
young man had gotten into a position similar to his
own.  His one thought was whether or not his
friend was alive.\par

He placed the body as comfortably as possible on
the fork of the tree, and then watched eagerly for
some sign of life.\par

There was a cut upon Mont's brow, and presently
a few drops of blood oozed from the wound,
and trickled down his cheek.\par

Jack took this as a good sign, and he was not
mistaken, for a few seconds later the young man
gave a deep sigh, and slowly opened his eyes.\par

"Where am I?" he asked, faintly.\par

"Here with me, Mont," replied the young
machinist, bending over him.  "Don't you know me?"\par

"Jack!" was the low response.  "Oh, how
my head hurts!  Where are we?"\par

"On the river."\par

"We are?"  Mont attempted to rise, but Jack
pushed him back.  "Oh, I remember now!" he
continued, shuddering.\par

"Remember what?" asked the young machinist, eagerly.\par

"The push Mosey gave me over the bank.  My
head struck a rock, and I don't know what
happened after that.  Where did you say we are?"\par

"In the middle of the river, just above the
falls."\par

"How in the world did we get here?  Oh, I
see!  You came out to rescue me!"\par

"No, I didn't.  Mosey pitched me from the old
mill last night, and I've been in the water ever
since.  I saw your body floating along, and
without knowing who it was, caught hold and landed
you here."\par

"You've saved my life," exclaimed Mont, fervently.
"I'll never forget that, Jack!"\par

"I don't know whether I've saved your life or
not," returned the young machinist, seriously.  "It
depends on whether we can reach shore or not; we
are close to the falls, and liable to go over at any
minute."\par

Mont pulled himself to a sitting position.\par

"Better take care!" cried Jack, "or you'll fall
off.  I am tied fast, and you are not.  Here, take
this end of the rope and bind yourself."\par

"Never mind.  I'm all right now," replied the
young man, as he viewed the situation.  "It is a
tight scrape, and no mistake," he added.  "Wonder
how this tree is wedged fast?  Must be between
the rocks."\par

"Yes, and it won't hold fast forever," returned Jack.\par

"We must reach shore, if possible, without delay."\par

"Easier said than done.  Now if we had a rope----"\par

"Will this do?"\par

"No; it isn't long enough.  Hello! something's
giving way already!"\par

At that instant the trunk of the tree quivered,
and moved a foot or so nearer the falls.\par

"Hold fast for your life!" Jack called; "perhaps
it has broken loose!"\par

He had hardly uttered the words before the tree
snapped its fastenings and swept toward the falls.\par

"Give me your hand, Mont," continued Jack, in
a loud voice, seeing that his friend could not secure
a good hold.\par

But before the young man could comply the
tree turned over, and both were immersed.\par

In another instant, the willow, for such it was,
had reached the brink.  Here it hesitated for a
moment, and then with a sharp sound it dove over
the madly boiling mass into the maelstrom below!\par

The noise was terrific.  Jack held on, closing
his eyes, and forgetting everything.\par

He felt himself go down, down--and still further.
The water rang in his ears, and many colors
flickered in his mind's eye.  The pressure from
above was tremendous.\par

Ten seconds passed.  He felt his senses leaving
him.  Mont's body bumped against him, and
unconsciously he threw his own body partly around
that of his friend.\par

Then all became a dim, dark uncertainty.  The
willow did not remain under the falls long.  The
rush of water soon forced it out into the stream
below, and once there, it shot along, bearing upon its
topmost branches two human bodies.\par

It drifted in mid-stream, gradually diminishing
its speed, until an island stopped its further progress.\par

It struck upon a sandy shore, and the upper end
swung gently around, catching fast in some
overhanging bushes.\par

The bright sun shone down upon the scene as
tranquilly as ever.  Its warm rays apparently
revived Jack, for, with a deep shudder--like one
awakening from a horrible dream--the young
machinist opened his eyes and endeavored to take in
the situation.\par

He felt as if he had been pulled and beaten until
not a spot was left in his body that did not ache.
The rope was gone from his wrists, hands and face
were cut, and his clothing was torn in a dozen
places.\par

Yet he did not mind all this.  He had a certain
sense of security--a knowledge that he had passed
through a great peril in safety--that more than
outbalanced his present sufferings.\par

Suddenly he thought of Mont.  He started up to
discover his friend lying near, his face deadly white,
and his head hanging over the branch like a lump
of lead.\par

Jack saw that they were close to shore--where,
he did not know nor care, and gathering all his
remaining strength, he clasped Mont in his arms, and
made a leap for solid ground.\par

He reached the shore, deposited his friend's body
on the grass, and then, unable longer to stand,
sank down beside the young man.\par

The moments dragged wearily along.  Jack felt
himself growing stronger, and by pure grit he arose
and turned all his attention to Mont.\par

"Looks as if he was dead!" was the young
machinist's awful thought.  "I never saw a drowned
man, but he is fearfully quiet.  Yet, if there's a
spark of life left in him, I'll fan it up if I kill
myself doing it."\par

He knelt down, and taking off Mont's coat,
unloosened his collar.  Then he rolled him on his
back, raising the lower part of the body as high as
possible, which caused the water to run from
Mont's mouth in a stream.\par

After this he moved his friend's arms backward
and forward to induce respiration, and was rewarded
presently by seeing the young man give a gulp and
a gasp for breath.\par

"Thank heaven for that!" ejaculated Jack.
"It's a good sign," and with strengthened hopes he
continued his efforts.\par

It was fully half an hour before Mont came to
himself and sat up.  He, too, was bewildered at
the situation.\par

"Where are we?" he asked, after a long
silence, in which both sought to regain their strength.\par

"I think we are on Blackbird Island," replied
Jack, slowly.  "That is just below the falls, you know."\par

"Did we drift here?"\par

"I suppose so.  I don't know any more than
you.  I came to my senses on the tree only a little
while ago."\par

Mont rolled over on his back and drew a long breath.\par

"I'm tremendously tired," he explained.  "Do
you know anything of this place?"\par

"I have often heard of it, but was never here
before.  I wonder if anyone lives here?"\par

"Don't know.  It looks rather wild."\par

"Tell you what we'll do," said Jack.  "We'll
rest here in the sun for a while and let our clothes
dry, and then explore the place and see what means
we can find of reaching the mainland."\par

Mont agreed, and making themselves as comfortable
as possible, the two boys rested for over an
hour, each in the meantime relating to the other
his experience.\par

"Mosey is a bad egg," was Mont's conclusion;
"I suppose he thinks that he has sent us both to
our death," and then he told Jack about the stolen
model.\par

The young machinist was much worried.\par

"It must have been Corrigan," he said, as he
arose, and put on his coat.  "I wonder what he
expects to do with such booty?"\par

"Sell it if he can," replied the young man.
"Hello!" he exclaimed, as he happened to glance
up.  "Here comes some one.  A girl, I declare!
What is she doing in this wilderness?"\par

\label{max-pooler-s-meg}%
\hypertarget{max-pooler-s-meg}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XIV.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ MAX POOLER'S MEG.}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
The girl who approached was a tall, gaunt
creature, certainly not over ten years of age,
yet with a knowing look of worldly experience in
her pinched face and furtive black eyes.\par

She was sparingly dressed in an ill-fitting calico
gown of ancient pattern.  Her feet were bare and
on her head rested a dilapidated sunbonnet.  She
carried a large pail on one arm, and made her way
to a gushing spring but a few feet away from
where Jack and Mont were reclining.\par

She started back in surprise upon seeing the pair,
and as they sprang to their feet she made a hasty
move as if to retreat.\par

"Don't run away, please," called out Jack.
"We won't hurt you."\par

Thus reassured, the overgrown child--for she
was naught else--stopped short, shyly swinging
the empty pail from one hand to the other.\par

"Who're you?" she asked abruptly, as the young
machinist came up.\par

"I'm Jack Willington, and this is my friend,
Mont Gray."\par

"How'd you come here?" was the second
question, asked as abruptly as the first.\par

"We had the misfortune to be carried over the
falls," replied Jack.\par

The girl tossed her pretty, but by no means clean
nose, in the air.\par

"Them falls?" she asked, pointing her long, thin
finger to the mighty volume of water up the river.\par

"Yes."\par

She gave a contemptuous snicker.\par

"You can't stuff no such stories down me!" she
ejaculated.  "Them falls!  You couldn't live a
minnit in 'em!  Think I believe such lies?"\par

"It's the truth, whether you believe it or not,"
put in Mont, "We were on that tree"--he
pointed it out--"and that saved us.  See, our
clothes are still wet."\par

The girl was silent, more convinced by their
genteel appearance, than by what was said, that
she was being told the truth.\par

"What is your name?" asked Jack, curiously.
He had never met such a unique character before.\par

"Meg," was the laconic reply.\par

"Meg?  Meg what?"\par

"No, not Meg what; only Meg."\par

"But what is your other name?"\par

"Hain't got none."\par

"Oh, but you must have," put in Mont.  He,
too, was becoming interested.\par

"Never did--leastwise, never knowed it, anyway,"
and Meg grew sober for a moment.\par

"Do you live here?" asked Jack.\par

"Yep."\par

"Alone?"\par

"Nope.  I live with Mr. Pooler."\par

"Who is he?"\par

The girl eyed the young machinist in surprise.\par

"Why, I thought everybody knew him," she
said.  "He's the man who owns this island."\par

"What, the whole of it?" exclaimed Mont, in
astonishment.\par

"Yep."\par

"And you live here with him?" continued Jack.\par

"Yep.  Have always."\par

"Any one else here besides you and him?"\par

"Not now.  His wife used to, but she died last
winter."\par

"I suppose you keep house for him?"\par

"Yep."\par

A faint smile accompanied the monosyllable this time.\par

"It's rather hard work for a girl like you,"
Jack remarked.\par

Meg tossed back her head.\par

"Hard!  'Tain't nothing; cookin' and cleanin'
ain't.  It's garden work that's tough.  Look at
them hands."  She dropped the pail and held
them up.  "Been blistered lots of times hoein' and
diggin'."\par

"It's too bad," cried the young machinist,
indignantly.  "It ain't fair to make you work like a
slave."\par

"What would you do if you was me?" asked
the girl, with a hungry, searching look in her eyes.\par

For a moment Jack was nonplused.\par

"I don't know," he replied, slowly; "I might,
though, if I thought over it.  Are you a relative of
his?"\par

"Not's I know."\par

"How long have you been here?"\par

"Ever since I can remember.  I didn't mind it
so much when Mrs. Pooler was alive, but since she
died I hate it;" and Meg grated her teeth tightly
together.\par

"Where is the house?" asked Mont.\par

"Over yonder, through the trees."\par

"Do you think you can get us something to
eat?" continued the young man.  "We have been
out since yesterday, and I'm as hungry as a stray dog."\par

The girl hesitated.\par

"We will pay you for it," Mont went on, feeling
for his purse, which, luckily, still remained in
his pocket.\par

"Guess I can," said Meg, finally.  "Pooler
ain't home; he went to the mainland this morning.
Did you really go over them falls?" she continued,
jerking her thumb in the direction.\par{}

\begin{figure}[h!tbp]
\label{figure-96}%
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\label{did-you-really-go-over-them-falls-she-continued-jerking-her-thumb-in-the-direction}%
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{\noindent}
{\centerleft{{\itshape{"DID YOU REALLY GO OVER THEM FALLS?" SHE CONTINUED, JERKING HER THUMB IN THE DIRECTION.}}
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"Yes, indeed we did.  It was a terrible
experience," replied the young man with a shudder.\par

"Must be.  Never heard of 'em comin' out
alive--'em as goes over, I mean."\par

"We are not anxious to try it again," Jack put in.\par

The "house" consisted of a dilapidated cottage
of two rooms and an attic, almost wholly covered
by grape vines.  Meg led the way around to the back,
and motioned them to a bench under a big tree.\par

"Better stay out here.  It's cooler and nicer,"
she said.  "I'll fetch a table;" and in a few seconds
she had done so, and placed it before them.\par

"Don't take too much trouble," said Mont; "we
are hungry enough to tackle almost anything."\par

"'Tain't no trouble--leastwise, not if there's
money in it.  Pooler worships money."\par

"Is he rich?" asked Jack.\par

"Don't ask me!" replied Meg.  "I've often
heard the men say he was rich, but I never see any
money."\par

"Doesn't he give you any?"\par

"Not a cent.  Say, how will coffee and bread,
with some pickerel do?  I can get them ready in
a few minutes."\par

"First-rate," replied Mont.\par

"Then just wait;" and Meg disappeared within
the cottage.\par

"Quite a smart lass," remarked Jack when they
were alone.\par

"Awfully wild, though," returned Mont; "I
would like to see this Pooler.  Something runs in
my mind concerning him--I can't exactly tell what."\par

"I shouldn't wonder but what he misuses that girl
awfully," added Jack, with a shake of his head.\par

It was not long before Meg returned with quite a
substantial meal for both.  She set the things before
them, and then stood by, ready for further orders.\par

"What does Mr. Pooler do for a living?" asked
Mont, while eating.\par

"Nothin' 'cept run his farm here," replied the
girl.  "He's gettin' kinder old."\par

"He is a farmer, then?"\par

"Yep.  That is, now.  He used to work in the
tool works at Corney."\par

"He did?" exclaimed Mont, with interest.  "I
work there.  How long ago was this?"\par

"I don't know exactly.  I heard Mosey and him
talkin' 'bout it."\par

Jack dropped his knife and fork in astonishment.\par

"Whom did you say?" he ejaculated.\par

"Mosey," repeated Meg.  "Do you know him?"\par

"I think I do.  Is his first name Andy?"\par

"Yep."\par

"Well, I'm stumped!" declared the young machinist.
"Yes, I know him," he continued bitterly.
"And he'll know me, too, when we meet again."\par

Jack meant all his manner implied.  His blood
boiled at the thought of the Irishman, and the
cowardly treatment he had received at the mill.\par

"Does Mosey come here often?" he asked.\par

"Not lately.  He used to, him and two or
three more.  But I oughten to tell you all this!
Pooler'll beat me if he finds it out."\par

"Not if I'm around!" replied Jack, stoutly.
"But we will not mention what you have told us."\par

"Wish you wouldn't.  But I don't care anyhow;
I'm gettin' tired, and sha'n't stay much longer."\par

"What will you do?" asked Mont.\par

"Run away," was the quick reply.\par

"Where to?"\par

"I don't know, and I don't care, either.  Any
place is as good as this, I reckon."\par

"Perhaps you can find some sort of a home in
Corney," suggested the young machinist.  "You
seem to be quite handy.  I will help you if I can."\par

"And so will I," put in Mont.\par

"I could do better if I had half a chance,"
asserted Meg, tapping the ground with her foot.\par

"May I ask what other men visit Mr. Pooler?"
inquired the young man, after a pause.\par

"A man by the name of Corrigan sometimes
comes with Mosey."\par

"Corrigan!"\par

Jack and Mont uttered the name together.  Here
was certainly news.  Yet they never dreamt of
what was coming.\par

"Any one else?" asked Jack.\par

"A man used to come sometimes at night.  Pooler
thought I never saw him, but I did--and heard
who he was, too."\par

"What was his name?" asked Mont, with just
the slightest tremor in his voice.\par

"Mr. Gray--Felix, Pooler called him."\par

Mont looked at Jack in deep perplexity.\par

"There is surely a mystery here," he said.\par

"You are right," returned the young machinist;
"and who knows but what it may concern both
of us?"\par

At this juncture Meg uttered an exclamation.\par

"There's a boat comin' over!" she cried.  "I
guess it's Pooler gettin' back!"\par

\label{the-miser-of-the-island}%
\hypertarget{the-miser-of-the-island}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XV.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ THE MISER OF THE ISLAND}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
Meg's conjecture was correct.  It was Mr. Max
Pooler who was the sole occupant of the
rowboat that was fast approaching the island.\par

He pulled a quick stroke, and two minutes brought
him to the shore, where, beaching his craft, he
jumped out, and walked rapidly toward the cottage.\par

He was a thin, sallow-complexioned man, with
a low forehead and sunken gray eyes.  The
expression upon his face, especially around his mouth,
was a pinched and hard one.\par

He viewed Jack and Mont in surprise, not
unmixed with disapproval, and turned to the girl for
an explanation.\par

"How is this, Meg?" he asked, in a shrill,
disagreeable tone of voice.  "Whom have you here?"\par

"Two young men that drifted over the falls,"
replied the girl, who was somewhat startled by his
sudden coming.  "I found 'em down by the spring,
all tuckered out."\par

"Over the falls!"  Max Pooler's face showed
his incredulity.  "Never heard of it afore!  When
did it happen?"\par

"We can't tell exactly," replied Jack.  "We
became unconscious, and came to about an hour or
so ago."\par

"Humph!"  The master of the island glanced at
the table, where a good portion of the food still
remained.  "Pretty good dinner you're givin' 'em,
Meg," he continued.\par

The girl was silent.  She evidently did not like
Max Pooler's remark, and stood biting her finger
nails in vexation.\par

"We are willing to pay for what we've had,"
broke in Mont.  "We were so hungry that we
couldn't wait till we got back to town, and so
persuaded this--this young lady to provide something
for us."\par

Max Pooler looked relieved.\par

"Ah, that's all right then," he said, rubbing his
hands together in satisfaction.  "Pay for what you
get and owe no man, has always been my motto,
and I find it a very excellent one, too.  Tell me
something of your adventures.  And, by the way, is
there anything else you wish?"\par

"No, I'm done," replied the young machinist.\par

He was thoroughly disgusted with the man's mean
manner, though he did not object to paying for
what they had had.\par

But Mont entered readily into conversation.  He
had eyed Max Pooler keenly from his arrival, and
noticed every action of the man.  He briefly related
the particulars of what had happened on the river.
For obvious reasons he did not mention how either
Jack or he had fallen into such a position, nor did
he mention any names.\par

"Awful! terrible! truly remarkable!" were
Max Pooler's comments.  "But did you see 'em?"
he continued, in a tragic whisper.\par

"See whom?" asked Jack, who was somewhat
taken back by this sudden change in the man's
manner.\par

"Why, the ghost in the falls," replied Max
Pooler, earnestly, "It is the spirit of a man who
went over one night."\par

Jack laughed.\par

"We did not see it," he replied.  "Besides, I
don't believe in them."\par

"Oh, but this is a ghost sure, I've seen him
myself many a time in the moonlight."\par

"Maybe you saw the man go over, and imagined
the rest," suggested Mont.  "Did you know him?"\par

"Oh, no!" replied Max Pooler, starting.  "No,
indeed, I only heard it was so.  But the ghost is
there.  Sometimes it comes on the island!"\par

"The man must be a little off on this subject,"
thought Jack, as he watched Max Pooler's manner.\par

"I guess there is too much water here to allow
of any spirits," said Mont, by way of a joke.\par

"Never mind, I know what I know," replied
Max Pooler, with a shake of his head.  "You were
mighty lucky to get through safely."\par

"I'll admit that," returned Jack, rising from the
table.\par

Mont also arose, and looked first at the man and
then at the girl.\par

"If you tell me what we owe you, I'll pay it,"
he said.\par

Meg was silent.  Had she had her own way she
would have charged nothing.\par

"Everything considered, I guess it's worth a
quarter apiece," said Max Pooler.  "Provisions
are frightfully high."\par

"I'm well satisfied," replied Mont; and taking
out his purse, he withdrew a half dollar, and
handed it over.  "I am very much obliged to you,"
he added to Meg.\par

Max Pooler's eyes sparkled as they rested upon
the shining silver.  He grasped the coin eagerly,
and after examining it, stowed it carefully away in
his bosom.\par

There was a pause.  Now that he had their
money, the owner of the island was evidently
anxious to have them take their departure.  Both Jack
and Mont wished to see more of this old man, but
neither could frame a plausible excuse for remaining.\par

"I suppose your friends will be anxious 'bout
you," remarked Max Pooler, by way of helping
them off.\par

Jack's thoughts instantly reverted to Deb, and
he said no doubt they would.\par

"But we have no boat," he added, suddenly.
"Can you lend us one?"\par

"Only got the one I use," replied the old man,
shortly.\par

"I can take 'em over," put in Meg, eagerly.
"'T won't take long."\par

"We will pay you for the use of the boat,"
added Jack.\par

The mention of pay immediately altered the
matter in Max Pooler's eyes.\par

"I'll do it for another quarter," he said.  "Times
are hard and one must make his living."\par

Jack made no reply.  The closeness of the man
disgusted him, and he paid the amount without a
word.\par

Meg led the way toward the beach.  Their backs
were scarcely turned before Max Pooler disappeared
in the cottage.\par

"The mean miser," burst out the girl, when they
were beyond hearing, "He's itchin' to put that
seventy-five cents along with the rest of his money!
Hope you don't blame me for what he's done.
Wouldn't have cost you a cent if I'd have had my way!"\par

"We were very thankful to get something," said
Mont, "and were perfectly willing to pay for it, too."\par

Jack was silent.  He half wished that Meg,
interesting as she was, was not present.  He wished
to talk with his friend over the odd news that the
last half hour had brought them.  He was half
inclined to question the young girl further, but did not
wish to excite her suspicion, and was diplomatic
enough not to get at it excepting in the direct way.\par

Of one thing he was certain; there was a good
deal below the surface that did not yet show, and
he determined that he would not drop the matter
until he had learned what it was.\par

"Did you ever hear of a wrecked yacht around
here?" suddenly asked Mont of Meg.\par

"Nope--that is," she hesitated.  "What makes
you ask that?"\par

"Oh, I only wanted to know," replied the young
man, apparently unconcerned.\par

"Pooler said I was never to speak of it," returned
Meg.  "He thinks I don't know where it is, but I do."\par

"Show it to us, will you?" asked Mont, eagerly.\par

Meg shrank back.\par

"It's haunted!" she exclaimed.  "Besides,
Pooler would kill me if he found it out."\par

"We'll never tell him, will we, Jack?"\par

"Certainly not," replied the young machinist,
to whom this new move was only another mystery.\par

"Besides, we intend to be your friends, you
know," continued Mont.\par

"Well, then, come on," replied Meg, finally.
"I don't care if he likes it or not.  'Taint a very
nice place though."\par

"Never mind.  We can't find any worse or
more dangerous places than we have already gone
through."\par

Meg picked her way along one bank of the
island for nearly a quarter of a mile.  Jack and
Mont followed closely.\par

The ground was covered with a rank growth of
reeds and rushes, and in many places was damp
and slippery.\par

At last they reached a deep cave that ran directly
between a cluster of twisted and bending willows.
The spot was at the upper end of the island, and
in full view of the falls.\par

Here, half hidden by the tall, undergrowth,
rested the hull of a dismantled yacht, bearing upon
her weather-beaten stern the half-obliterated name:\par

"KITTY."\par

\label{on-board-the-kitty}%
\hypertarget{on-board-the-kitty}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XVI.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ ON BOARD THE "KITTY"}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
"Hello!" exclaimed Jack, in astonishment.
"I never knew such large craft came here."\par

"It's really haunted," replied Meg.  "Mustn't
go near it."\par

The young machinist laughed.\par

"Seems to me everything is haunted around
here," he said, "Were you ever on board?"\par

"Nope, Pooler would kill me if I went.  He's
terrible when he's mad;" and Meg shook her head
as the memory of past trials arose in her mind.\par

Meanwhile Mont had gone on ahead, and now,
not without some difficulty, reached the deck of
the stranded vessel.  Jack followed him, leaving
the girl behind.\par

"Don't be long, please," called out Meg; "I
don't like to stay here, and besides, I've got to get
back, you know."\par

"We will stay only a few minutes," replied the
young machinist.\par

Mont had walked aft, and picking his way over
the odds and ends that littered the deck, Jack
joined him.\par

"Jack, do you know what I believe?" asked
the young man, when they were out of Meg's hearing.\par

"What?"\par

"I believe that this yacht was once my father's,"
replied Mont, earnestly.  "His was named the
Kitty, and was last seen on this river, above
Corney.  He used it to cruise around the lakes in."\par

"Yes, but that was above the falls," returned
Jack.  "You don't mean----" he began.\par

"Yes, I do.  The water was higher years ago,
and I'm convinced that his boat was caught in the
stream and went over the falls."\par

Jack stepped back in astonishment.\par

"But he could never live through it," he cried.\par

"He was never seen after that," returned the
young man, gravely, "Yet we came out alive," he
added.  "If he was on the boat he might have escaped."\par

Mont led the way carefully down the half-rotten
companion way into the cabin below.\par

There the air was foul and stifling.  It was
totally dark, but Jack stumbled around until he
found a small window and threw open a shutter.\par

A curious sight met their gaze.  The place
looked as if it had been left immediately after
a struggle, although this might have been caused
by a violent movement of the craft.  A big
armchair lay upset in one corner, with a pile of books
in another.  On the table lay a pile of written and
printed papers, some of which had been swept to
the floor, and were covered with the ink from an
upturned bottle, which, however, had dried years
before.  Dust, mold and cobwebs were everywhere.\par

Jack picked up some of the written matter and
brushing off the dust tried to read it.\par

"It seems to be an agreement," he said to Mont,
who was looking over his shoulder.  "An agreement
about an invention, that----"\par

"It is my father's handwriting!" exclaimed the
young man, in an unnatural voice; "I could tell it
in a thousand."\par

Jack turned the document over.\par

"I guess you're right," he said.  "It seems to
relate to some improvement in making tools."  He
looked at the title.  "Gracious me!"\par

"What is it?" cried Mont.\par

"It is drawn up between the Gray Brothers of
the first part, and Martin Willington of the second!"\par

"And Martin Willington----" began the young man.\par

"Martin Willington was my father!" ejaculated
the young machinist, in great surprise.\par

At that instant both heard Meg's voice calling
loudly.\par

"Better clear out.  Here comes Pooler, and that
Andy Mosey is with him!"\par

Jack and Mont were startled by the unexpected
cry from Meg.  Both were thoroughly absorbed in
the document which the former had picked up from
the floor, and for an instant neither caught the full
meaning of the girl's announcement.\par

"Andy Mosey!" repeated the young machinist,
looking up from the agitated reading of that faded
manuscript.  "How in the world did he get here?"\par

"Heaven only knows!" ejaculated Mont.  "Affairs
seem to be all mixed, and I give it up.  One
thing is certain: he and Pooler are close friends."\par

"Or else have a mutual interest at stake," was
Jack's comment.  "Just as we two seem to have
here," he continued, folding up the paper and
putting it in an inside pocket.\par

"You're right.  But what brings Mosey up to
this end of the island?"\par

"Perhaps he thinks to find one or both of our
bodies," suggested the young machinist.\par

"Did you hear me?" called out Meg again.
"Pooler and Mosey are comin', and they've both
got guns!  Better skip out!"\par

Meg's language was forcible even if not well
chosen.  In her anxiety to do her two friends a
good turn, she had overcome her dread of the
so-styled haunted craft, and approached to within a
few feet of the side, so that her shrill voice sounded
plainly.\par

"It's a shame to leave these things here," said
Mont, as he too, stuffed several papers in his
pockets.  "This boat was undoubtedly my father's
property, and I believe I'm entitled to whatever is
here."\par

"Certainly you are," replied Jack.  "As it is,
I intend to come back myself.  But we can't do
much, now, and if those two men see us they may
make it very unpleasant, to say the least."\par

"Wish we were armed.  This is the first chance
I have ever had of learning the true state of my
father's affairs, and how he died, and I don't
want to leave until I have sifted the matter thoroughly."\par

Mont was already on the companionway, and
Jack quickly followed him.\par

"It's queer that Pooler should know that this
stranded boat is here, and yet not touch a thing on
board," remarked the young machinist.  "He seems
to be so close, it's a wonder he hasn't carried all
the stuff away."\par

"You don't remember that he thinks this is
haunted," replied Mont.\par

Jack laughed.\par

"Do you believe that yarn?" he asked.\par

"Not altogether; yet the man is certainly a
strange fellow."\par

Meg was eagerly awaiting them on the shore.\par

"I don't see Mosey and Pooler," said Jack, as
he stepped to the rail and looked over.\par

"They're comin' through the woods," explained
the young girl, hurriedly; "I just saw 'em through
the clearing ahead."\par

"What brings them here?" asked Mont.\par

"Don't know.  Pooler comes only once in a
great while, and I never knew that Mosey to go
anywhere but to the cottage."\par

"Well, what shall we do?" asked the young
man, turning to Jack.\par

"Better get out of his way," suggested Meg.
"He's a wicked man when he's mad, and he'll be
the maddest man in the district if he catches you
two on this boat."\par

"Suppose we go below and hide," replied the
young machinist.  "It ought to be an easy thing
to do so on such a craft as this."\par

"Just the idea!" exclaimed Mont.  "How slow
of me not to think of it."\par

"But how about the girl?"\par

"Ain't you goin'?" asked Meg impatiently.\par

"No; we intend to hide on board," replied
Jack.  "We were just thinking about you.  I
hope you won't tell Mr. Pooler where we are?"\par

"Not unless you want me to."\par

"Which we certainly do not."\par

"Suppose you go back to the boat, and get it
ready," replied the young machinist after a moment's
thought.  "We may wish to leave in a hurry."\par

"All right."\par

"I can trust you?" he added, with a smile.\par

"Trust me?  Just you try me, that's all!" and
with a toss of her head, Meg darted away into the
bushes, and was lost to sight.\par

At the same instant Mont caught hold of Jack
and dragged him behind the cabin.\par

"I just saw Mosey and this Pooler through those
trees yonder!" he exclaimed.  "They'll be here in
another moment!"\par

"Let's go below at once.  We want to get the
'lay of the land,' and secure the best place we
can," returned the young machinist, leading the
way back to the cabin.\par

They found several staterooms, all but one of
which were locked.  The open one seemed to be as
inviting a place as any, and this they entered,
closing the door carefully behind them.\par

They were none too soon, for hardly had they
settled in the place before they heard the two men
clamber on board.\par

The newcomers were evidently having a spirited
confab, but as the deck was thick, not a word
could be heard below.  Their heavy boots sounded
up and down the planking several times, and then
the two in hiding heard them come down into the
cabin.\par

"You must have been mistaken," Max Pooler
was saying; "I know they were on the island, but
the girl rowed 'em to the mainland half an hour ago."\par

"Oi say no," replied Mosey.  "Oi seen them
coming over here from me boat.  But why should
they be on the island at all?" he continued with
apparent indifference.\par

"They fell in the river and went over the falls."\par

"And lived?  Come now, Max----"\par

"They say so, anyway.  Of course I didn't
believe the story.  I guess they're only a couple of
young tramps," said the master of the island.  "But
if they are still hanging around I want to know it."\par

"Tramps!" burst out the Irishman.  "Phat are
ye talkin' about?  Do ye mane to say ye don't
know who they are?"\par

"Why no," replied Max Pooler in surprise.\par

He had tried the doors of two of the staterooms,
and was now walking toward the others.\par

"Well, thin, let me tell ye, one was Jack
Willington, whose father got up that machinery years
ago----"\par

"What!"\par

"And the other wan was Monteray Gray's son."\par

The miser of the island uttered a loud cry.\par

"You are fooling!" he said, excitedly.\par

"No, I ain't."\par

"Why, I thought his son was dead, that he--he
died here," continued Max Pooler, with a white face.\par

Mosey laughed, a cold, hard laugh.\par

"Max, me b'y, ye can't kill that lad.  If ye'd
go out into the worruld more ye'd larn more.  Now
his father----"\par

The miser of the island grasped the Irishman
fiercely by the shoulder.\par

"Stop there!" he commanded; "I won't have
it--remember that--I won't have it!"\par

\label{meg-to-the-rescue}%
\hypertarget{meg-to-the-rescue}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XVII.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ MEG TO THE RESCUE}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
The last part of Mosey and Max Pooler's
conversation would no doubt have greatly
interested Jack and Mont had they heard it, but
the truth was that as soon as they saw the two
men preparing to search the place, they
immediately sought for some means to escape.\par

In one corner of the stateroom they found a
small door leading by a narrow passage to what,
for the want of a better name, may be termed the
forecastle.  Why it had been put there was not
apparent--except, perhaps, to allow a direct
communication between the captain and the men, but
nevertheless, they used it, and when Max Pooler
spoke so sharply to Mosey, the two in hiding
had again regained the deck, and did not hear the
short quarrel that followed.\par

"Where to now?" asked Mont, "We can't
stay here, that's certain."\par

"There is Meg with the boat!" exclaimed Jack,
pointing down the shore.  "Wonder if we can
get her to come alongside without them finding it out?"\par

"We can try," replied the young man, and
taking out his handkerchief, he waved it vigorously.\par

In an instant the young girl caught the signal,
and came rowing up.\par

"Where are they?" she asked, anxiously.\par

"Down below," replied Jack in a whisper.
"Don't make a noise or they will hear you."\par

"All right.  Jump in, both of you."\par

Mont and Jack were not slow in taking her
advice.  Both scrambled over the rotten rail,
and into the boat, which fortunately was rather
roomy.\par

"Shall I take the oars?" asked the young
machinist, who, though not an expert, could still
handle the oars fairly well.\par

"Nope.  I can row better'n either of you.  Off
we go!"  And with one quick stroke this slender
girl sent the craft far out on the water.\par

Before she had time to take a dozen strokes Max
Pooler appeared upon the deck closely followed by
Mosey.\par

The surprise was great on both sides, and for an
instant nothing was said or done.\par

"Come back, Meg!" called out Max Pooler,
rushing to the rail as soon as he had recovered from
his astonishment.  "Come back, or it will be the
worse for you!"\par

"I'm goin' to row 'em over to the shore," replied
the young girl.  "It's just what I started to do."\par

The master of the island stamped his foot in rage.
"You little good for nothing!  Bring that boat
back without another word!"\par

Meg continued to row without replying.\par

"Do you intend to mind me?" screamed Max
Pooler.  "If you don't, as sure as I live I'll shoot
you!" and he drew up his gun as he spoke.\par

"Hold up!" shouted Mont, fearful of harm
coming to the girl.  "We'll come aboard."\par

"No we won't!" put in Meg, with a strong
show of spirit, "I said I'd take you to the
mainland, and I'll keep my word, shootin' or no
shootin'!"\par

Max Pooler pulled back the hammer of the gun
he carried.  Seeing the action Jack jumped up and
placed himself directly in front of the girl.\par

"Thanks," said Meg.  "It's mighty good of
you to try to save me, but I don't want you to run
such a risk.  I've got to have it out with him
sooner or later, and now is as good a time as any,"
and she placed herself again in range.\par

"Did you hear what I said?" called Max Pooler,
leaning over to make himself heard: "I'll give you
just five seconds to turn that----"\par

Crack!\par

As I have stated, the guardrail on the yacht was
rotten, and under the unusual weight, it gave way
with a crash.\par

Splash!\par

The miser of the island had lost his balance, and
after vainly clutching the air to save himself, had
floundered into the water and mud below!\par{}

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\label{figure-97}%
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{\centerleft{{\itshape{THE MISER OF THE ISLAND HAD LOST HIS BALANCE, AND AFTER VAINLY CLUTCHING THE AIR TO SAVE HIMSELF, HAD FLOUNDERED INTO THE WATER AND MUD BELOW.}}
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\hfill{}
\end{figure}

"Hello!" exclaimed Jack.  "There's an
accident that's lucky for us."\par

"He'll have all he can do to take care of
himself," remarked Mont.\par

"Serves him right," put in Meg, with a laugh.
She had not taken the whole affair very seriously.
"Maybe it'll cool his blood."\par

The three saw Mosey rush to Max Pooler's assistance,
and then, without waiting to see the outcome
of the mishap, the girl again bent to the oars, and
sent the boat flying onward.\par

"What do you intend to do?" asked Jack of
Meg, as they neared the shore.  "You can't very
well go back.  I'll help you if I can."\par

"I don't know," replied the young girl, in
perplexity.  "I've had enough of life over there."\par

"Suppose you go over to Farmer Farrell's with
us, I think he will board you for a few days
anyway, and in the meantime you can find out what's
best to do."\par

"I ain't got no money."\par

"We'll make that all right," replied the young
machinist.  "But didn't Pooler ever pay you anything?"\par

"Pay me?  Don't catch him giving out a cent
if he can help it.  All I got was these duds--'em
as was left when his wife died."\par

"Not much, certainly," put in Mont, surveying
the tattered and patched dress.\par

"Other folks earn money, and I guess I can,
too, if I try," continued Meg, as she ran the boat
up the accustomed beaching place.\par

"Certainly you can," declared Jack.\par

"And have a better living than you had at the
island," added the young man.\par

It was growing dusk when they stepped ashore.
Meg tied the boat fast and left the oars on the
seats, certain that the craft would not remain
uncalled for long.\par

It was but a short walk to Farmer Farrell's place.
They found him driving home the cows, and on
the doorstep, joined by his wife, the two honest
people listened to what Jack and Mont had to say
about themselves and Meg.\par

The girl stood in the background, much of her
former shyness having returned.  At the conclusion
of the tale, Mrs. Farrell took her hand warmly.\par

"Poor child! you've had a hard time of it,
truly!" she said, "But you sha'n't have any
more trouble--at least, not for the present, eh,
father?"\par

"No, we can keep her easily enough," replied
her husband.  "You want help, Martha, summer
coming on, with all the extra work."\par

"And we'll pay you, too," continued Mrs. Farrell.\par

"Oh, thank you!" exclaimed Meg.  "You 're
real kind.  Maybe I can't do things just right, but
I guess I can learn, and you needn't give me a cent
till I do."\par

"Then, that's settled," said Jack, somewhat
pleased at having the matter so easily arranged.\par

"If only Pooler don't make me go back."\par

"You say you're no relation of his?" asked Mont.\par

"Not's I know.  He always called me a picked-up."\par

"Then just let him try it," put in Farmer Farrell,
grimly.  "I know the man well.  He pretends
to own Blackbird Island, but he hain't got no more
title 'n I have."\par

"And maybe I can get you a few dresses from
my sister, and----" began Jack.\par

"Well, there, by Jinks!" exclaimed Farmer
Farrell, jumping up from the step upon which he had
been sitting.  "I almost forgot it, being so
interested in your story.  Your sister was here looking
for you."\par

"Deb!" Jack was indeed astonished, and so was
Mont.  "What did she want here?  Looking for me?"\par

"Yes; she's had a terrible time.  Your model's
stolen, and she's been put out of the house for
not paying the rent."\par

The news startled the young machinist.  In the
excitement he had forgotten all about Mr. Hammerby
and the quit notice.\par

"Did she say where she had moved to?" he
asked anxiously.\par

"No, she was in too much of a hurry.  She was
frightened half to death on account of your being
missing."\par

"No doubt of it.  Poor Deb!  Her troubles are
as bad as ours," remarked Mont.\par

"Which way did she go?" was the young
machinist's question.\par

"Toward home again," said Farrell; "I wanted
her to stay the worst way when I found out who
she was, but she wouldn't think of it."\par

"Maybe we can overtake her," suggested Mont.\par

"We'll try, anyway," returned Jack.\par

He was much worried over the fact that Deb
had been compelled to vacate the old home; and
then he suddenly remembered that all of his money
had been stolen by Corrigan.\par

"Without a home and without money," he
thought dismally.  "Well, thank God, my life has
been spared, and, as Deb said, 'maybe it will all
come out right in the end.'"\par

Yet his heart was by no means light, as Mont
and he set out for Corney.\par

\label{deb-at-the-mill}%
\hypertarget{deb-at-the-mill}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XVIII.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ DEB AT THE MILL}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
The apartments which the kind-hearted Miss
Parks allowed Deb to have were small but
pleasant, and the bright sunshine that strolled in
the back windows did much toward brightening
up Deb's naturally lively disposition.\par

By the aid of the energetic elderly maiden the
furniture from the former Willington rooms was
quickly set to rights, a good part of it being stored
in the garret until--when?\par

Deb asked herself that question many times as
she sat on the edge of the bed, after Miss Parks
had gone below.\par

"If Jack was only here," she sighed.  "Where
can he have gone?  I will never, never believe
he has run away, no matter what Mr. Benton or
the others say.  Something has surely happened to
him."\par

It was not long before she decided to start on
a regular search for her brother, and going down
stairs she told Miss Parks of her intention.\par

"Well, dear, do just as you think best," was
that lady's reply.  "Where do you intend to go?"\par

"I shall visit that farmer's place first," replied
the girl.  "Perhaps they can give me some information."\par

"I hope so.  But have a cup of tea before you leave?"\par

"Thank you; I really don't care for it."\par

"Oh, but you must," insisted the good lady.
"It will do you a heap of good.  Just the thing
to quiet your nerves."\par

Rather than displease her friend, Deb finally
consented; and spent ten minutes in the back
parlor, sipping the elderly maiden's favorite Young
Hyson.\par

The girl was soon on her way.  Farmer Farrell
was well known throughout the district, and it did
not take her long to reach his place.\par

She was thoroughly dismayed to learn that Jack
had started for home at sundown the day before.\par

Not knowing where to go or what to do next,
she retraced her steps toward Corney.  She was in
no hurry, and wandered in deep and painful
contemplation, to one side of the road.\par

Near the old mill she stumbled over a bundle
that lay in the grass near a tree.  Without
thinking, she was about to step over it, when something
about the cloth covering attracted her attention,
and picking it up, she was amazed to find that it
was Jack's kit, wrapped in his overalls!\par

"How in the world did that get here!" she
exclaimed, and then turned deathly white, as a
horrible suspicion crossed her mind: "Oh, it could
never be! no, no, no, no!"\par

She dropped the bundle and ran down to the
water's edge.  The spot was just below the mill,
and in a little cove, where the river was
comparatively quiet.\par

Nothing was to be seen--nothing but the
sparkle of the sun, and the waving shadows cast
by the trees overhead.\par

"It's awfully lonely here," she said to herself.
"If Jack came here----"\par

She was startled to see the shadow of a man
close beside her.  Looking up she gave a slight
scream as she recognized the tall form of Corrigan.\par

She did not know that the man had been watching
her for some time, revolving in his mind what
he should say about Jack if asked any questions.\par

He advanced to her with a smiling face, ignoring
entirely the way he had treated her the previous
evening.\par

"Got tired of waiting for Jack to get back?" he asked.\par

Deb was too much alarmed to offer a reply at once.\par

"Yes--I am," she stammered.\par

"Thought you would be.  He ought to have
sent you word," continued Corrigan.  "He sold
the model I took, just as I told you he would," he
added.\par

"Where is he?" asked the girl, thrown off her
guard by the villain's cool manner.\par

"Around here somewhere.  He's been here and
over to Redrock twice since yesterday.  He got
the contract to fix up the machinery in this old
mill.  The man who bought it wants the job done
as soon as possible, so he went right to work.  I'm
helping him on the drawing.  I'm a draughtsman,
you know."\par

Deb did not know, nor was she aware that
Corrigan's statement was purely fictitious.\par

"Where is Jack now?" she asked, turning over
the plausibility of the story in her mind.\par

"Just went up the stream a ways, to catch the
true drift of the tide," replied Corrigan.  "He
thinks they will get more power if the wheel is
shifted around.  Better come in the place and wait
for him."\par

Deb hesitated.  In spite of all the man was
saying, she hated to trust him.  Yet, if he was
speaking the truth, certainly her treatment of him the
previous evening had not been right at all.\par

"There are some benches inside," continued the
fellow; "you are tired, I can see, and the rest will
do you good.  Jack will land at the bottom room."\par

Rather reluctantly Deb followed the man into
the building.\par

"Here you are," he said, pulling a bench from
the wall, and motioning her to a seat.  "You
mustn't think I bear you a grudge for what you
did last night," he continued, pleasantly.\par

The girl sat down without replying.  The spot
was near an open window, and she strained her
eyes to catch sight of any craft that might be
coming toward the mill.\par

"Perhaps after all, it's all right, and I'm a silly
goose to be so worried," she thought; "it's just
like Jack to take hold of the first job that comes to
hand.  For all I know his silence may be caused
by his good luck."\par

Yet when she remembered about being locked in
and, later, turned out of their home, she concluded
it was a serious matter, and wondered what her
brother would say to that.\par

It was fast turning to twilight, and the evening
sun cast long flickering rays across the rapid stream.
Had her mind been tranquil, Deb would have
enjoyed the scene greatly, but now her one thought
was upon the boat she hoped would speedily appear.\par

"Object to smoking?" asked Corrigan, after a
brief spell of silence.\par

"Oh, no, smoke as much as you please," replied
the girl.\par

Corrigan filled his pipe, and lighting it, sat
down.  He was by no means a dull man, and to
carry out his hastily formed deception, he began
making a few apparent calculations on a bit of
paper which he held upon his knee.\par

He was waiting for Mosey to return from Blackbird
Island.  He expected that his brother-in-law
would see Max Pooler, and transact some private
business that interested the three, and from which
he expected to receive a neat sum of money.
Several times Deb turned to watch Corrigan.\par

"He seems sincere enough," she kept saying to
herself, yet at the bottom of her heart her
uneasiness increased.  The man hardly knew what to do.
On the impulse of the moment he had detained
Deb, thinking that he might in some way make her
shield him from the punishment he knew he richly
deserved, yet now he was not sure he could manage her.\par

A quarter of an hour, a very long quarter to
Deb, passed.\par

"My brother ought to be in sight," she said.
"He ought to stop working.  It is getting late."\par

"Maybe he's struck a new idea," replied
Corrigan.  "You know he hates to give up unless a
point is settled."\par

Deb knew that this was true of Jack.  But
might not her brother go straight home, without
returning to the mill?\par

"I guess I'll go up the road to meet him," she
said, rising.\par

Corrigan stepped over to the door.  "No, you
must stay here," he replied, decidedly.\par

"Why--why, what do you mean!" exclaimed
Deb, turning pale.\par

"I mean just this," replied Corrigan, catching
her by the arm, "you are my prisoner, and must
do as I say."\par{}

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{\centerleft{{\itshape{"I MEAN JUST THIS," REPLIED CORRIGAN, CATCHING HER BY THE ARM, "YOU ARE MY PRISONER AND MUST DO AS I SAY."}}
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\label{in-corrigan-s-power}%
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\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XIX.}}
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{\centering
{\normalsize{ IN CORRIGAN'S POWER}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
For the moment after Corrigan made his
assertion that Deb must do as he said, the
terrified girl could not speak.  She stared at the
man in terror.\par

"Wha--what do you mean?" she gasped at last.\par

"You heard what I said," he answered coolly.
"I want no nonsense from you either."\par

"But--but--what are you treating me so for?"\par

"That's my business, Miss Willington."\par

"And I must consider myself your prisoner?"
she added, growing more pale than ever.\par

"That's it."\par

"You have no right to keep me here."\par

"Perhaps not, but you must remember that
might makes right in some cases."\par

"Where is my brother Jack?  I do not believe
that you have told the truth about him."\par

"If you don't believe me, why do you want
me to answer your questions?" he returned with
a wicked grin on his unshaven face.\par

"You have harmed Jack in some way--I am
sure of it!"\par

"No, no!  To tell you honestly I haven't the
least idea where he is," said Corrigan hastily.\par

Under no circumstances did he wish to stand
for the crimes which his brother-in-law had
committed.  As it was, he felt that he had
enough to answer for on his own account.\par

There was an awkward pause after this.  Then
of a sudden Deb started to scream, but he quickly
clapped his hand over her mouth.\par

"None of that!" he said, roughly.  "If you
won't be quiet, do you know what I'll have to do?"\par

"I guess you are mean enough to do almost
anything!" burst out poor Deb.\par

"I'll have to gag you, that's what.  I won't
have you yelling for help, remember that!"\par

"But I do not wish to remain here!" insisted
Deb, desperately.\par

"Oh, pshaw!  I won't hurt you.  Sit down
and keep quiet."\par

But the girl could not compose herself and
began to walk up and down the mill floor.  She
wished to get to the door and edged in that
direction, but Corrigan quickly headed her off.\par

"You come with me," he said, presently.  "I
ain't going to trust you down here any more."\par

"I shan't go a step with you," she answered,
vehemently.  "O, Mr. Corrigan, please let me
go!  Please do!"  And she clasped her hands
and held them out toward him.\par

"Don't cut up so, Miss Willington.  As I
said before, I shan't harm a hair of your head.
But I must make you stay here for a while.  Now
come with me."\par

"But where do you wish me to go?"\par

"There is a loft overhead.  I must lock you
up there, but only for a little while."\par

"But why are you doing this?"\par

"As I said before, that must remain my business.
Come."\par

She shook her head.\par

"I--I cannot!" she cried, and began to weep.\par

Muttering something under his breath the
villain caught her by the arms, just as he had
caught her when he had come for the model,
and in a trice he was carrying her up to the
loft.  She struggled as best she could but this
availed her nothing.\par

"Now you keep quiet, or I'll surely gag
you," he said, as he set her down on the dusty
floor.  "If you start up any kind of a racket it
will be the worse for you."\par

Having thus delivered himself, Corrigan went
below again, closing the door to the loft behind
him and fastened one of the bolts which was
there to hold it in place.\par

Left to herself, Deb stood dazed for a
moment in the center of the floor.  Then she
tottered to an empty box standing near and sank
upon this, the picture of misery and despair.\par

What should she do?  What could she do?\par

Over and over she asked herself the questions,
but without reaching a satisfying answer.  She
was the prisoner of a wicked man, and to get
away from him appeared impossible.\par

The loft was very dusty, and from overhead
hung huge cobwebs full of dirt and spiders.  It
was quite dark, for the only window was a
little affair overlooking the river and the four tiny
panes of this were thick with grime, the
accumulation of years.\par

At last she arose, and with a long-drawn sigh
made her way toward the window.  It was
nailed fast and could not be raised, so she had
to content herself with scraping some of the
dirt from the glass and looking through the spots
thus afforded.\par

She could see but little, and nothing which
gave her satisfaction.  Below her was the broad
and swift-flowing river, and beyond was a grassy
bank, backed up by brush and tall trees.  No
boat was in sight, nor any human being.\par

She listened attentively, and not hearing
Corrigan began to wonder if he had left the building.\par

"If he has I must escape somehow," she
told herself.  "I wonder if I can't pry open
that door?"\par

She knelt over the door and tried it with her
bare hands.  But this was not sufficient, and
getting up she looked around for something which
might prove useful to her.  In a corner of the loft
rested a rusty iron bar, somewhat sharpened at
one end.  She brought this forth and after
inspecting it felt certain that it would prove just
what was needed.\par

Approaching the trapdoor she called out softly:\par

"Mr. Corrigan!  Mr. Corrigan, are you down
there?"  And then, receiving no answer, she
went on: "Mr. Corrigan, I must speak to you.
Won't you please listen?"\par

Still the silence continued, and now her heart
arose within her.  He must certainly have gone
away, and if that was so, now was her time to
escape!\par

Trembling with anxiety, Deb began to work
away on the door with the iron bar.  At last
she got the end of the bar in the crack of the
door, and then she began to pry the door
upwards.  At first it refused to budge, but
suddenly the bolt gave way and then the door
came open with ease.\par

She was at liberty, or at least liberty was
within her grasp, and with her heart thumping
madly in her breast, she began to descend to the
floor below, bar in hand.  Once she thought she
heard a noise outside and stopped short.  What
if that awful man should be coming back!  But
the noise ceased and was not repeated, and she
went on and soon stood at the spot where he had
first made her a prisoner.\par

The door to the roadway was open, and poor
Deb could hardly resist the temptation to fly
forth at the top of her speed.  But then she
remembered that Corrigan might be within easy
distance of the mill.  If that was so, and he
caught sight of her, he would surely make after her.\par

"I must watch my chance, and if he is around,
I must get away on the sly," was what she told
herself.  Curiously enough, while up in the loft,
she had not discovered Jack's model, which was
tucked away out of her sight.\par

With bated breath she tiptoed her way to the
open doorway and peered forth.  No one was in
sight on the road, nor at the water's edge near
the mill.  All was as silent as a tomb, save for
the distant rushing of the water over the rocks.\par

Waiting no longer, Debt left the mill and
started for the road.  She was still terribly
frightened and ran on as if some great demon was
after her trying to clutch her shoulder.  In her
agitation she did not notice a tree root growing
in her pathway, and catching her foot in this,
she pitched headlong on the stones and grass.\par

It was a cruel fall, and as she fell she could
not keep back a cry of alarm, followed by one
of pain, for her elbow was hurt not a little.\par

At the cry there was a crashing in the bushes
overlooking the river at a point above the mill,
and a moment later Corrigan appeared.  He had
gone out on a point of land to see if he could
catch sight anywhere of Andy Mosey.\par

"What! did you get away?" he roared.\par

"Let me go!" screamed Deb.  "Oh, my
elbow!  Let me go!"\par

"Let you go nothing!" he answered, and
caught hold of her once more.  "Come back
with me!  Come back this minute!"\par

"No, no!" she moaned.  "I--I don't want
to go back!"\par

"But you shall go back," he answered.  And
despite her struggles he lifted her into his arms
once more and returned with her to the mill.\par

\label{mont-tells-his-story}%
\hypertarget{mont-tells-his-story}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XX.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ MONT TELLS His STORY}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
As Jack and Mont journeyed on the way to
Corney, the young machinist noticed that
the young man was rather silent, and when spoken
to replied only in monosyllables.\par

"I suppose he's speculating about those papers
and the stranded yacht," thought Jack.  "Perhaps
they will be valuable to him when he comes to
settle up with his uncle.  I'd just like to know
what interest father had in that tool machinery.
Perhaps the patent is still ours, or a royalty on it.
As soon as I find Deb, and things are settled a bit,
I'm going to investigate the whole subject."\par

Jack's surmise concerning Mont was correct.\par

"What do you think of my uncle?" asked the
young man, after a long period of silence.\par

"What do I think of him?" asked the young
machinist in turn.  "In what way?"\par

"Why, as to his dealings with people in general."\par

"Well, I--I really, Mont, I don't want to say
anything that will hurt your feelings,"
stammered Jack, not wishing to be harsh with so
dear a friend, and yet determined to speak only
the truth.\par

"Never mind my feelings.  Just speak your mind."\par

Jack was silent a moment.\par

"I think he's outrageously mean and close!" he
burst out.  "He doesn't treat you, nor any one else
in the tool works fairly!  He's the hardest master
to work for in the town!"\par

The young machinist could be blunt when the
occasion demanded, and he did not mince matters
now.\par

"I guess you are right," replied Mont, shaking
his head affirmatively.  "And yet----" he hesitated.\par

"What?"\par

"I hardly dare say what is in my mind, Jack.
But I want a friend's advice."\par

"And I'll give it willingly."\par

"And keep the matter to yourself?"\par

"Certainly, if you wish it."\par

"Then I've got this to say about my uncle, Felix
Gray," declared Mont.  "He is either treating me
first-rate--which I don't believe--or else he is the
worst scoundrel in Corney!"\par

Jack was dumfounded.\par

"The worst scoundrel in Corney?" he repeated
almost breathlessly.  "You surely don't mean it!"\par

"Yes, I do," replied the young man, decidedly.\par

"Don't think I say so hastily.  I've thought
over the matter a long time.  Things can't go
on as they have much longer, and when the break
comes, I want somebody to know my side of the story."\par

"Yes, go on."\par

"In the first place, you must remember that
Mr. Gray is not my full uncle.  He and my father were
only half brothers, so we are not so closely
connected as people imagine."\par

"That's so," replied Jack, trying to catch a
glimpse of what his friend was driving at.\par

"My father was ten years younger than his
step-brother," continued Mont, slowly.  "He was
quite well off, having been left considerable money
by an old aunt, who always took a great interest in
him.  My uncle Felix induced him, shortly after
receiving his inheritance, to locate at Corney, and
both became equal partners in the tool works."\par

"On your father's capital?"\par

"So I imagined; his brother putting his experience
and command of trade against my father's money."\par

"Then you really own a half interest in the
works!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise.\par

"So I always believed.  But listen.  My father
died suddenly, it was said.  I returned home in
time to hear his will read.  In this, his property,
without being specified, was left to me as the only
surviving member of the family, with Felix Gray
as the sole executor and my guardian."\par

"It was a good deal to trust in his hands."\par

"I suppose my father had unlimited confidence
in his brother.  I trusted him, too, and continued
at school for three years longer.\par

"When seventeen years old I returned home,
and asked him if I was not old enough to take an
active position at the works, and then he offered
me my present clerkship, and astonished me by
asserting that my father had squandered most of his
wealth by extravagant living, and that several
hundred dollars was all there was remaining of my
share."\par

"And you think?" began the young machinist,
who was beginning to see through the situation.\par

"What would you think, Jack?" asked the
young man, earnestly.  "My father lived
well--owned the yacht we just left, and all that--but
was on the whole, I've been told, a prudent man.
Now you know my uncle, what do you make of
the matter?"\par

"Did Mr. Gray ever offer to let you examine the
accounts?"\par

"Only those at the tool works, but not the
private ones at home."\par

"Then, to say the least, he is certainly not
acting as a guardian should," declared Jack.  "And
I think you would be perfectly justified in
demanding an examination."\par

"That's your honest opinion?"\par

"It is, Mont.  If he is acting right he won't
mind it, and if he isn't, why the sooner you find it
out the better.  From my own experience I am
sure he would stoop pretty low to increase his
wealth or position."\par

"Yes, but that--that----" hesitated the young
man, his face flushing.\par

"I know what you mean," replied Jack quickly.
"To deprive you of what's yours is a crime punishable
by imprisonment, and you hate to have such a
thing connected with any one in your family.  But
it's not your fault, and you ought to have your rights."\par

"Yes, but the publicity?" faltered Mont.\par

"Oh, pshaw! you don't owe the public anything!"
exclaimed the young machinist, somewhat
impatiently, so anxious was he to see Mont get his
rights.  "Perhaps the affair can be settled privately."\par

"I wish it could," returned the young man
eagerly.  "I would sacrifice a good deal to have it
done in that way."\par

Mont's nature was a shrinking one.  Had he
been less diffident it is probable that he would have
demanded an account from Mr. Felix Gray long
before this.\par

"How will you approach your uncle?" asked
Jack.  "Have you any proofs to show that all is
not right?"\par

"I think I have.  During the fire I helped carry
out a desk from the library, and the other fellow
let his end fall, and burst open one of the drawers.
The contents rolled out on the ground, and in
putting the papers back I came across a bundle marked
with my father's name.  I was at first going to put
it with the rest, but as matters stand, changed my
mind, and pocketed it.  I took it down to the office,
but haven't been able to examine it, except in a
general way.  And then those documents from the
yacht----"\par

"Here they are," replied Jack, producing them.
"You have some, too."\par

"Yes, quite a bundle."\par

Mont undid them, and tried to read some of the
faded manuscript.\par

"It's too dark to see much," he observed.  "If
I'm not mistaken, my father wrote everything that
is here."\par

"It's queer that Pooler should leave all those
things on the yacht undisturbed," returned the
young machinist.  "One would think that such a
man as he would have ransacked the boat from
stem to stern."\par

"He certainly must have a reason,", said the
young man.  "Or else--I've been thinking--he
may be a little off in his mind.  Did you notice
what a restless look his eyes had?"\par

"Yes, as if he expected to be nabbed by some one."\par

"What Mosey and Corrigan and my uncle do
there beats me."\par

"And then the yacht.  Was your father on
board when he died?"\par

"I don't know.  I always supposed he was at
home, and never asked about it."\par

Both felt that for the present at least, the solution
of this question was beyond their power to reach,
and they lapsed into silence.\par

They were now near the old mill, and remembering
the kit he had dropped when he discovered
Mosey, Jack made a search for it.\par

"What are you looking for?" asked Mont.\par

"My tools I dropped--gracious, listen!"\par

A shrill, girlish voice penetrated the air, and
fairly struck him to the heart.\par

"Help!  Jack!  Help!"\par

"It's Deb!" he ejaculated.  "She's in trouble!"
and he ran toward the old building, closely
followed by Mont.\par

It took but a few seconds to reach the place.
The door was tightly closed, but with one heavy
kick the young machinist burst it open.\par

They were astonished at the sight within.\par

There was Corrigan--his red face redder than
ever with rage--and in his arms, her hair flying,
and her dress plainly showing the effects of her
terrible struggle for liberty, was poor Deb!\par

\label{corrigan-makes-a-move}%
\hypertarget{corrigan-makes-a-move}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XXI.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ CORRIGAN MAKES A MOVE}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
Both Jack and Mont had had surprising
adventures in plenty, but both of them agreed that
none of them equaled the present one.\par

The noise in the room prevented Corrigan from
hearing their entrance, and it was not until Jack's
strong hand grasped his arm that he realized the
sudden intrusion, and let go his hold upon Deb.\par

As for the poor girl, she was too exhausted to
speak, but with a glad look of recognition, sank
back in a faint, supported by Mont, who sprang
forward to prevent her from falling to the floor.\par

"You miserable coward!" exclaimed the young
machinist, his blood boiling at a fever heat.
"What do you mean by holding my sister in this way?"\par

With a strong push of his powerful arm he sent
the man flying into a corner.  It was lucky that
he had no weapon in his hands, or Corrigan's career
might have received a severe set back.\par{}

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\label{figure-99}%
\hypertarget{figure-99}{}%
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{\noindent}
{\centering
{[}image{]}
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\vs{1}
{\noindent}
{\centerleft{{\itshape{WITH A STRONG PUSH OF HIS POWERFUL ARM, HE SENT THE MAN FLYING INTO A CORNER.}}
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\hfill{}
\end{figure}

"Are you hurt?" asked Mont of Deb, as the
girl presently opened her eyes, and gave a little
gasp.\par

"I--I think not," she replied, slowly.  "Oh,
how glad I am that both of you came when you did!"\par

"What brought you here?" asked the young man.\par

"I was looking for Jack."\par

Meanwhile Corrigan had risen to his feet, and
stood in a corner, his chagrin at being caught
showing itself plainly upon his face.  Jack faced
him, his hand clenched, ready to strike instantly, if
necessary.\par

"Well, what have you got to say for yourself?"
demanded the young machinist.\par

Corrigan offered no reply.  The sudden turn in
affairs was something he could not understand.
He bit his lip and tried to put on a bold and
careless front, but the effort was a failure.\par

"He stole your model, Jack!" cried Deb.\par

"So I heard," replied her brother.  "What
have you done with my property?" he added to
Corrigan.\par

"I haven't anything of yours," was Corrigan's
cool reply.  "It's all a mistake."\par

"No, it isn't, Jack; it's the truth," reiterated
the girl earnestly.\par

"You went into my house and took that model
by force," continued the young machinist.  "You
see, I know all about it, so you might as well give
up the thing at once."\par

While speaking, Jack had unconsciously stepped
to one side.  With a sudden movement Corrigan
slipped past him, and made for the open door.\par

But the young machinist was on the alert, and
before the man could realize it, he was sprawling
on the floor, with Jack on top of him.\par

By intuition, he appeared to feel that it would
be useless to struggle, and so lay perfectly still.\par

"I've a good mind to bind you, hands and feet,"
said Jack.  "Close that door, will you, Mont?"
he added to his friend.\par

"Will you let me go if I give up the model?"
panted Corrigan, who began to feel the weight of
Jack's heavy body upon his chest.\par

"I don't know.  But you've got to give it up,
anyway."\par

"I suppose it's hidden here," put in Mont.
"That's probably the reason he's hanging around
the place."\par

"Wherever it is you will never find it without
being told," broke in Corrigan.\par

For well-known reasons he was anxious to get away.\par

"Oh, let him go, Jack!" exclaimed Deb.  "I
don't care, now I've got you--and Mont"--the
last words with a grateful look at the young
man, that caused him to blush.  Jack thought the
matter over carefully.  He was not of a vindictive
nature, and bore no personal ill-will against Corrigan.\par

"What do you think of it?" he whispered to Mont.\par

"Might as well let him go if he gives up your
property," replied the young man.  "It would be
rather hard for us to manage him."\par

"Then give up the model and you can leave,"
said the young machinist to Corrigan.  "But I
never want you to come around me again."\par

"Give me your word on letting me go if I give
it up?" asked the man, with an eager look.\par

"Yes."\par

"Come on, then."\par

Corrigan led the way to the upper room of the
mill.  The little party of three entered.\par

"There it is," said the man, pointing to a corner;
"you will find it up there, back of that large
beam," and he pointed to an angle in the roof,
about eight feet from the floor.\par

"Give me a boost up, Mont," exclaimed Jack.\par

The young man caught him by the hips, and
held him up as best he could.\par

"It's here, sure enough!" cried the young
machinist, and from out of a dim recess he brought
forth the model, covered with dust and cobwebs.\par

So interested were the two that they did not
notice Corrigan back out from the room and close
the door behind him.\par

"I'm glad it's safe!" exclaimed Jack, as he
placed the precious burden upon the floor.\par

"I was afraid--Hello--what's that?"\par

The creak of a bolt not used before sounded
in his ears, and in an instant he noticed the closed
door.\par

"He's gone!" ejaculated Mont, in astonishment.\par

The young machinist sprang to the door and
shook it vainly.\par

"Trapped, by Jinks!" he exclaimed.  "Here,
quick! we'll break it down!"\par

With all force both threw themselves against the
wooden barrier.\par

Unfortunately the door was an old-fashioned one,
thick and solid, and it stood firm.\par

"We're caged and no mistake!" cried the young
man, nearly breathless from his repeated exertions.
"Hist!  Listen!"\par

Pale as a sheet, Jack did as bidden.\par

There was a struggle going on below.  They
heard Deb shriek several times.\par

"Great heavens, what is he doing?" continued Mont.\par

"We must get out," exclaimed Jack determinedly.\par

"Now!  One, two, three!"\par

Bang!\par

The door groaned.  It bent out at the bottom,
but still held its own.\par

"Try it again!  Now!"\par

Bang!  Crash!\par

A thin split through one of the panels, but that
was all.  Jack jumped over to the model.\par

"What are you going to do?" asked Mont, perplexed.\par

"Cut our way out," was the reply.\par

Taking a small screwdriver from his pocket, the
young machinist loosened one of the sharp knives
of the miniature planer.  As he did so there came a
scream from beyond the road.\par

Jack was again back to the door.  How rapidly
the chips flew!  Hurrah! he had made a hole
through!\par

He put in his finger.\par

"Can you reach the bolt?" asked the young
man anxiously.\par

"Not quite!"\par

Again the chips flew.  The hole grew larger.\par

"Here, Mont, try your hand.  It's smaller than
mine."\par

The young man did so.  With a painful squeeze
he pushed through the opening, and catching the
bolt by his thumb, drew it back.\par

Jack then opened the door, and rushing out,
jumped down the steps four at a time.\par

"Come on!" he called back to Mont, who was
vainly endeavoring to release his hand.  "I think
he's gone down the road."\par

The young machinist was not long in reaching
the outside.  But once there he came to a full stop.\par

Neither his sister nor Corrigan were anywhere
to be seen!\par

In a few seconds Mont appeared, the back of his
hand bleeding from the scratch it had received.\par

"Where are they?" he gasped, tying his
handkerchief over the wound.\par

"Blessed if I know!" exclaimed Jack.\par

He ran to a bend in the road, and then back
again.  Not a soul to be seen anywhere!\par

Meanwhile, the young man examined the river
bank.  All was quiet and undisturbed.  The sun
had set fully an hour before, and the twilight,
especially under the trees, was fast deepening.\par

"We can't trace them in the dark," remarked
Mont, as they stopped for consideration.\par

"We've got to do it," declared the young
machinist; "I'm going to find Deb if it takes a
week."\par

"Then I'm with you, Jack.  Come on."\par

"It runs in my mind that they must have taken
that road," said Jack, as he pointed to the one that
led down the river.\par

"Well, we might as well take that as any other,"
returned Mont.  "He must certainly have carried
her in his arms, and--well, I declare!  Isn't that
her hair ribbon?" and he picked up a streamer of
brown from the road-side.\par

Jack examined it.\par

"You're right," he replied, "We are on the
direct way to overtake them.  Come!"\par

Both started on a run.  They soon passed the
falls, and came to a clear spot on the bank of the
river.\par

Mont uttered a cry.\par

"Look!  Look!" he exclaimed, pointing out in
mid-stream.  "There they are in a boat; Corrigan
is making for Blackbird Island!"\par

\label{heaps-of-money}%
\hypertarget{heaps-of-money}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XXII.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ HEAPS OF MONEY}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
Mont was right.  Far out on the fast-darkening
waters of the stream was a small rowboat,
with Corrigan at the oars, and poor Deb
huddled up on the stern seat.\par

Jack's heart sank within him.\par

"He's out of reach," he groaned.  "Oh, what
fools we were to let him dupe us at the mill."\par

"I suppose he was afraid to trust us to let him
go," said the young man.  "Can't we do something?"
he asked, disconsolately, as he stepped to
the top of a rock to get a better view.\par

"Come down!" cried Jack, pulling him by the
coat.  "It's no use letting him know that we have
tracked him so far, or he'll do his best to mislead us."\par

"That is so," returned the young man, and he
hurried into shelter.  "I suppose he intends to
join Mosey and Pooler."\par

"It's a good thing he didn't know we had been
to the island," said Jack.  "Suppose we take Meg's
boat and follow?" he added, suddenly.\par

"We would never be able to cope with those
three men.  If we had arms it might be different.
But we haven't as much as a toy pistol."\par

"Never mind, I'm going," was Jack's reply,
and he made for the cove where the craft had been
left.\par

"Then I'm with you," Mont returned, and he followed.\par

At the water's edge both gave a cry of disappointment.\par

The boat was gone!\par

"Of course, Corrigan took it," said the young
machinist.  "He knew this was the place to look
for Pooler's boat."\par

Mont shook his head dubiously.\par

"I guess you're right.  What's to be done
now?" he asked, slowly.\par

Jack cudgeled his brain for an instant.\par

"I'll look around.  There must be other boats.
Of course we haven't any right to take them, but
we can't stand on ceremony in a case like this."\par

He ran down the beach and soon came to a tiny
craft tied to a fallen tree.\par

"Just the thing," he exclaimed, untying the
boat and jumping in.  "Tell you what to do,
Mont.  I'll row out and keep them in sight, while
you run over to Farmer Farrell's for assistance.
Get him to come, and other help, too, if you can,
and row directly for the landing.  If you don't
find me there, fire a pistol shot, and I'll come as
soon as I can."\par

This hurried arrangement was agreed upon, and
Mont made for the lane that led to the farmer's
homestead.\par

Jack shipped the oars, and tired as he was, pulled
manfully out into the stream.  The other boat was
no longer in view, but he had carefully noted the
direction it had taken, and now headed exactly the
same way.\par

He pulled for five minutes or more, and then
looked ahead.\par

He was chagrined to find that the other craft
was still out of sight.\par

Resuming his seat, he redoubled his efforts,
sending the spray flying in all directions.\par

Presently the island loomed up before him, and
straining his eyes, he sought for some signs of his
sister and her abductor.\par

But though he looked in all directions, and even
rowed a considerable distance up and down the
irregular shore, not a thing was revealed.\par

"Well, I'm stumped!" was his rather slangy
but forcible exclamation.  "I'm positive they're
not far off, and how I can be slipped in this
fashion gets me!  Wonder if he has gone up to the
cottage?"\par

Jack ran the boat up the beach and landed.  It
was now very dark, and he had no little difficulty
in finding the right direction.\par

Finally he struck the path, and three minutes'
walk brought him to the clearing.  A bright light
was burning in the cottage living-room, and
cautiously approaching one of the side windows, he
peeped in.\par

At the table, his head nodding sleepily, sat
Mosey, with a glass and bottle close at hand.\par

"He must be alone," thought the young machinist.
"Wonder where Pooler is?"\par

In his disappointment, he was about to return to
the shore, when the door leading to the garret
stairway opened, and Corrigan appeared.\par

He did not utter a word, but closing the door
behind him, he locked it carefully.\par

Jack was pleased to see him.  He instantly
surmised that Deb had been brought to the place, and
was at the present instant probably locked up in
the room above.\par

He was bound to rescue her at all hazards, and
looked around for some available weapon with
which to defend himself if the occasion required.\par

A small axe lay near the doorstep, and he picked
it up.  It was ah ugly looking thing, and he felt
better when he had it where it could be brought
into instant use.  Both of the men were desperate
characters--one of them had tried to take his
life--and he was resolved to run no more risks.\par

"Oi suppose we can't go back to Corney any
more," remarked Mosey, as he took the bottle and
helped himself freely.  "Ye'll be up fer stealin'
and----"\par

"You'll be up for something worse," finished
Corrigan, with a forced laugh.  "You're right,
Andy.  The place is getting too hot to hold
us.  We'll have to clear out soon, I'm afraid.
Where is Max?"\par

"Gone to the cave."\par

"What for?"\par

"Oi don't know, leastwise he thinks Oi don't."\par

"Which means that you do," remarked Corrigan,
suggestively.\par

Mosey unclosed one eye with great deliberation.\par

"Oi do that," he replied slowly.\par

"Do you think it's money, Andy?" asked the
other, as he seated himself on the edge of the table.\par

"It's not anything else, Dennis, me b'y," was
the reply.\par

"How much do you expect to get from him?"\par

"Not one cint.  Oh, but he's a close-fisted
miser.  Oi know him!" and the Irishman rubbed
his chin savagely.  "He owes me many a dollar,
so he does!"\par

"Suppose we take what we ought to have by
force," whispered Corrigan.  He was slightly pale
and his lips twitched nervously.\par

"Oi'm wid ye," replied Mosey, rising to his
feet.  "Oi was thinkin' of the same thing myself.
Max is no good any more.  Come on!"\par

With an uncertain step the Irishman moved
toward the door.  In an instant Jack stepped
behind the opposite side of the building.\par

Corrigan followed his brother-in-law out, and
both walked toward the woods on the right.\par

The young machinist watched them out of sight
and then ran into the cottage.\par

Unlocking the stairway door, he mounted the
steps hastily.\par

"Deb!  Deb!"\par

"Oh, Jack! is that you?" came a voice from the
darkness.\par

"Yes.  Where are you?"\par

"Here, over here, this way!"\par

Groping his way along the rafters, the young
machinist soon held his sister in his arms.  In a
trice he cut the straps with which Corrigan had
bound her.\par

"Are you hurt?" he asked tenderly.\par

"Oh, no, but I was awfully frightened!"
declared the girl.  She was trembling like a
frightened fawn, and clung to him closely as he carried
her down the ladder and into the open air.\par

"We'll go over to the shore," said Jack; "I
think Mont is there.  He was to follow me."\par

When they reached the edge of the water, they
found that the young man had just landed.  He
was accompanied by Farmer Farrell, one of the
hired men, and Meg, who had insisted upon coming
along to show the way.\par

In a few words Jack introduced Deb, and related
what had occurred.\par

"And now I believe these men mean harm to
this Max Pooler," he said in conclusion.  "If I
knew the way to the cave I'd follow them at once."\par

"I know the way," put in Meg.  "Pooler
thinks I don't, but I found it out one rainy night
by followin' him."\par

"And will you show us?" asked Jack, eagerly.\par

"Yep, if you want me to," replied the young
girl.  "Come on.  'Taint far."\par

"Hurry up, then.  I have a feeling that every
minute is valuable."\par

Meg led off at once, Jack and Mont following
first, with Farmer Farrell close behind, and Deb
helped along by the hired man, who lagged
considerably, having no desire to expose himself to
possible harm.\par

"'Taint very pleasant," said Meg, as they
journeyed over rocks and stumps, and through a
copse of thick undergrowth, and then over a
shallow stream.\par

Quarter of a mile brought them to a ravine, near
the center of the island.\par

"Here we are!" exclaimed the young girl.
"There's the mouth of the cave."\par

She pointed to a huge rock, split directly in the
center.  Without an instant's hesitation, Jack
entered, followed by the rest.\par

Bang!\par

A pistol shot rang out ahead!\par

"They've shot him, sure?" exclaimed the young
machinist, darting forward.\par

A turn in the passage brought him to a small
square chamber hollowed out of the rock, and
furnished with a table and two chairs.\par

He was utterly bewildered by the scene before him.\par

On either side of the small opening stood Mosey
and Corrigan, the former with a smoking pistol in
his hand.  Between them lay Max Pooler, a wound
in his shoulder.\par

But the scene upon the floor of the cave was
what riveted Jack's attention.  There, scattered in
every direction, were gold and silver coins,
amounting to many thousands of dollars.\par

\label{the-miser-s-treasure}%
\hypertarget{the-miser-s-treasure}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XXIII.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ THE MISER'S TREASURE}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
As he stood in the cave on Blackbird Island,
Jack thought he must be dreaming--the
smoke and shining gold and silver all dancing
before his eyes.\par

Mechanically he moved forward and grasped
hold of the pistol in Mosey's hand.  The Irishman
was so astonished that he relinquished the weapon
without an effort.\par

"Stand right where you are!" commanded
Jack, and he pointed the pistol so that it was
nearly in range of both men.\par

"Cornered!" cried Corrigan, as he looked
toward the cave entrance, now blocked by Farmer
Farrell and his hired man, "and at the last minute, too."\par

Meanwhile, Mont had gone down on his knees,
and was bending over the prostrate form of Max
Pooler, who was bleeding profusely from the
wound in his shoulder.\par

Picking up one of the heavy cloth bags that had
contained a part of the scattered coin, the young
man clapped it hastily over the bleeding spot, tying
it in position with his handkerchief--an action
which checked the flow considerably.\par

"My gold!  My precious gold and silver,"
shrieked Pooler, never deigning to notice the effect
of Mosey's hasty shot.  "Put it back; put it back
in the bags!  Oh, don't let them take it!  It's
mine!  All mine!" he whined.\par

"Never mind," put in Jack.  "Don't worry.
What's yours shall remain yours.  Guess we have
them safe, eh, Mr. Farrell?" he continued.\par

"Looks so," replied the sturdy farmer.  "Anyway,
I reckon I can keep 'em from going through
this door--the pesky critters!" and, with his gun
ready for use, the farmer stationed himself in the
middle of the passageway, with Deb, Meg and the
hired man behind him.\par

"What's the cause of this row?" asked Jack,
hardly knowing how to proceed, the whole affair
having happened so unexpectedly.\par

He looked at Corrigan and then at Mosey, but
both of these discomfited individuals remained
silent.\par

"They were trying to rob me of my gold and
silver," cried Pooler, "But they sha'n't do it!"
he added, vehemently.  "It's mine, all mine."\par

With his restless eyes rolling wildly, the miser--for
Max Pooler was naught else--reached out his
uninjured arm, and clutching the pieces of money
within reach, stowed them away in his bosom.\par

"Better keep quiet," suggested Mont, placing
his hand on the bandaged shoulder.  "Your wound
may be more serious than you think."\par

Max Pooler started.\par

"Do you--you think so?" he asked in a hoarse
whisper.\par

"Not being a doctor, I can't say anything certain.
It depends on what direction the bullet took."\par

"Can I do anything?" put in Deb at this
juncture.  She had pushed her way past the farmer,
and now stood by the young man's side.\par

"I guess not, Deb," Mont replied.  "We
haven't much at hand in the shape of hospital
supplies," he added, soberly.\par

"Suppose we try to get him up to the house,"
suggested Farmer Farrell, without removing his
eyes from the two who had caused all the mischief.\par

"I won't leave my gold and silver!" howled
the miser.  "Leave me here.  Never mind my
arm; it will soon get well.  Only take those two
men away."\par

Max Pooler struggled to his feet.  The movement
caused him intense pain, and he uttered a
sharp groan.\par

"We can't do as he wishes," said Jack to Mont.
"He might die, and we would never forgive ourselves."\par

"I know it," replied the other.  "But it will
be a hard matter to separate him from his money.
Besides what shall we do with Mosey and Corrigan?"\par

"That's a sticker.  If we had a rope I 'd bind
them tighter than they ever bound me."\par

"There's a rope in that chest," put in the miser,
who overheard the last remark.  "Tie 'em up--don't
let 'em get away."\par

"It's sorry ye'll be for sayin' that," exclaimed
Mosey.  "Oi'll tell--hic--all----"\par

Corrigan caught him by the arm.\par

"Shut up!" he whispered in his ear.  "Can't
you see Max is excited?  Let him cool down.
You will be getting us into a heap of trouble
presently."\par

The rope in the chest was long and heavy, and
Jack picked it up with considerable satisfaction.\par

"You first, Mosey," he said, "and none of your
fooling, mind."\par

"That's all roight, Jack, me b'y.  Oi'll not run
a shtep.  Never--hic--moind the rope," returned
the Irishman in his oiliest tones.\par

"I won't trust you, Mosey," returned the young
machinist firmly; and, assisted by Mont, he tied
the man's hands behind him, and his feet in such
a manner that he could barely take a walking step.\par

"Now your turn," said Jack to Corrigan.\par

"What are you going to tie me for?" asked that
individual in pretended surprise.  "I didn't shoot him."\par

"Perhaps not, but you were perfectly willing to
have him shot.  Come, quick.  I'm not going to
argue all night."\par

Corrigan saw that Jack's patience was exhausted,
and that the young machinist was not to be trifled
with.  He submitted without another word.\par

"Well, what's to do now," asked Farmer Farrell,
when the job was finished.\par

"Suppose we row them over to the mainland
and march them to Corney," suggested Jack.
"It's half-past eight now.  We can reach there by ten."\par

"I'll get my wagon, and we can drive over,"
returned the farmer.  "But what of this man here?
We can't leave him."\par

"Carry him up to the cottage," put in Meg,
who had thus far been a silent spectator of what
was passing.  "There's medicine there, lots of it.
It came from----"\par

Max Pooler glared at the girl.\par

"Shut up, will you?" he snarled.  "How
many times have I got to tell you to make you mind?"\par

"You can say what you please," replied the girl
boldly, "and I will, too.  I've left the island for
good, and don't care what you do."\par

The miser turned pale with rage.\par

"What!" he cried, harshly.  "Leave me!  Why,
you good for nothin'----"\par

In his anger he raised his wounded arm as if to
strike.  Jack sprang forward to defend the young girl.\par

But his caution was unnecessary, for at the same
instant Max Pooler gave a sharp gasp of pain, and
wavering backward and forward for a second, fell
heavily to the floor.\par

Deb and Meg both gave a shriek, Jack and Mont
turned the wounded man over on his back.\par

"Is he--he dead?" asked Deb.  She was
white, and trembled all over.\par

"No, only exhausted," replied Mont, after
applying his ear to the miser's breast.  "His passions
hold him completely under control."\par

"Then he is to be more pitied than blamed,"
said the girl, sympathetically.\par

The wound had again commenced to bleed.  Mont
adjusted the bandage that had become displaced,
but this seemed to do little good.\par

"I will run to the cottage, and get anything you
want," put in Meg, gazing with softened features
at the unconscious form.\par

"All right," replied Mont, and he named several
things which he thought might be used to
advantage.  "And don't forget plenty of linen, and
some cotton if you have it," he added.\par

The young girl started off at once, and soon
disappeared in the darkness.\par

Meanwhile the two prisoners were growing restless.\par

"Guess me and the man can march the pesky
critters down to the boat," said Farmer Farrell,
who was weary of watching the pair.  "That is,
if you don't mind going through the woods with
us," he continued to Jack.\par

"Certainly, I'll go," answered the young
machinist.  "Will you stay here, Deb?"\par

"Yes, I may be needed," replied the girl.
"We'll have to dress the shoulder when Meg returns."\par

A moment later the party started off, Mosey and
Corrigan in the center, with the hired man behind.\par

Hardly had they left ere Max Pooler returned to
his senses, and sitting up, suddenly looked around.\par

"Gone?" he ejaculated.  "Did they leave my
money?  Did they leave me my shining gold and
silver?"\par

"Yes, it's all there, so don't worry," replied
Mont gently.  "You must keep quiet; it is bad for
your shoulder when you move."\par

Max Pooler lay back, and eyed the young man
suspiciously.\par

"You talk as if you meant well," he said, "but
no one can be trusted nowadays.  Who are you?"\par

"Oh, never mind that," replied the young man,
"just keep quiet."\par

"But I want to know your name," persisted the
wounded man.\par

"My name is Monterey Gray."\par

The miser leaped to his feet, his teeth clenched,
and his eyes rolling frightfully.\par

"It's a lie!" he shrieked.  "Monterey Gray is
dead!--died years ago!  He died on the yacht!
I saw him.  Oh, you can't fool me!  His ghost is
in the falls, but he is dead; and his gold and
silver--oh, you can't fool me!  This ain't his; it's mine,
all mine!"\par

\label{a-glimpse-of-the-past}%
\hypertarget{a-glimpse-of-the-past}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XXIV.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
The miser's wild and unexpected revelation was
certainly a most astonishing thing to Mont
Gray.  As we know, he had surmised that this
strange man knew much of the history of the past,
and he had already decided to put several questions
to Max Pooler on the first available opportunity.
But such a statement as he had just heard took
away his breath, and he stared at the prostrate
man, scarcely able to move.\par

Deb, too, was astonished, but, woman-like, paid
more attention to the effect upon the young man
than to what was said.\par

"Oh, Mont, isn't it awful?" she exclaimed,
catching him by the arm.  "What makes you so
pale?  What is that man talking about?"\par

"I can't say, exactly," he replied, in an oddly
unnatural voice.  "My father's death is a mystery
to me.  This man can unravel it, I suppose, if he
will," he added, as he knelt down, and turned
Pooler once more on his back.\par

The face of the wounded man had lost all color,
and his heart seemed to have stopped beating.\par

"If we only had some water it might help
him," said Mont.  "Although I can't make
anything out of a case like this."\par

"There's a brook just outside," returned Deb.
"Wonder if there is a cup anywhere around?"\par

In one corner he found a can, such as is used in
preserving vegetables.  It was empty, and, taking
it outside, she washed it thoroughly, and returned
with it full of pure, cold water, with which they
bathed the wounded man's head.\par

"He is suffering more from the excitement than
from the pistol shot," observed the young man, as
he worked away.\par

"I suppose being surprised by those two men
was the start of it," replied Deb.\par

The miser was rapidly regaining his color, and
his forehead felt like fire.  Soaking the handkerchief
in the can, the girl bound it over his temples.\par

Presently Pooler grew restless.  He did not
open his eyes, but moved his body from side to side
uneasily.\par

"He is coming to," whispered Mont.  "Perhaps
you had better go outside.  He may become violent."\par

"Never mind if he does," replied the girl; "I
think I ought to stay, and I won't care so long as
you are here," and then, as Mont gave her a
grateful smile, Deb suddenly blushed and turned away
her face.\par

"My gold and silver!  It's mine, all mine!"
muttered Pooler to himself.  "Monterey Gray is
dead, and it belongs to me, all, all, all!"  He
gnashed his teeth.  "Oh, why did I go on that
accursed yacht--evil is always sure to follow!
My gold and silver!  All mine!"\par

A long silence followed, broken only by the
irregular breathing of the exhausted man.\par

"He has passed into a stupor," said Mont.
"How long it will last I cannot tell."\par

Presently Meg returned, carrying a number of
bottles and bandages.\par

"Brought all I could carry," she declared.
"Hope there's what you want there."\par

Deb looked over the list and fixed up a dose
which Mont poured down the wounded man's
throat.\par

Meanwhile, Meg picked up the scattered coins
and tied them up in the various bags that lay upon
the table.  How much there was they could form
no estimate, but it would certainly run up to
thousands of dollars.\par

Evidently, Max Pooler had not dreamed of being
surprised while counting over his hoarded wealth,
and the demands of Mosey and Corrigan, who
probably had some hold upon the miser, had led to an
immediate quarrel.\par

While Meg was still at work, Jack returned,
somewhat flushed from hurrying.\par

"We don't know what to do with those two
men," he said, after taking a look at Pooler, who
still rested quietly.  "That hired man is afraid of
his own shadow, and Mr. Farrell hardly thinks he
can manage them alone."\par

"Suppose you go with them," suggested Mont.
"I can get along here alone, and when you come
back you can bring a doctor."\par

The young man's idea was thought by all to be a
good one.\par

"But what will you do?" asked the young
machinist of his sister.\par

"I'll do whatever you say, Jack," was Deb's reply.\par

"I'll stay here, if it's best," put in Meg.  "I
ain't afraid of anything on this island."\par

"Perhaps you had better remain, too, Deb,"
said Jack.  "I'll be back with the doctor just as
soon as I can."\par

"Wonder if we can't get this man up to the
cottage," put in Mont.  "He'd be much better off
in his own bed than here."\par

"We can, but carrying may make his wound
worse," returned the young machinist.\par

"It isn't that which worries him the most.  It's
his money and his conscience," declared the young
man, as he eyed Pooler meditatively.\par

"Then come; we'll lock hands and make an
armchair for him to ride in."\par

Not without considerable difficulty they raised
the man between them.  He now uttered no sound,
and his weight was that of a dead body.\par

Meg led the way, carrying the lantern which she
had taken from the cave.  Deb brought up the
rear, her overskirt weighted down by as many of
the bags of the coin as she could carry, which Jack
advised should be taken along.\par

It was a long and tedious walk, for the greater
part in the dark.  They rested twice, and both
Mont and Jack gave a sigh of relief when they
deposited their burden upon a temporary bed in the
front room of the cottage.\par

"There, now you'll have to get along the best
you can," said the young machinist.  "I suppose
Mr. Farrell is wondering what keeps me so long.
Good night all;" and off he went toward the shore.\par

Meg brought some extra blankets from the other
beds, and Mont prepared a resting place for the
unconscious man, placing the wounded shoulder in
as comfortable a position as possible.\par

"You had both better try to secure a little
sleep," he said to the two girls.  "I can get along
alone.  If I need help I will call you."\par

After some discussion both Deb and Meg retired
to what had for many years been the latter's
resting place, a small chamber at one end of the
garret.\par

Mont kept a constant eye upon his strange
patient, frequently rearranging the pillow, and
watching that the bandage did not slip from the
shoulder.\par

There was an anxious look in the young man's
face as he moved about, and it soon vented itself in
a brief soliloquy.\par

"This man knows all about the past," he
whispered to himself.  "He knew my father, and he
knows uncle Felix, I must help him to recover and,
there----" he rubbed his hand over his forehead;
"If I only knew the truth!"\par

He noticed that the brow of the miser gradually
grew hotter, and that the man's restlessness
increased every moment.\par

"I don't know of anything else I can do," said
Mont to himself.  "I hope Jack will hurry back
with the doctor."\par

It was not long before Max Pooler was tossing
from side to side.\par

"My gold and silver," murmured the feverish
miser.  "My shining gold and silver!  You shan't
take it away!  It's mine.  Ask Felix Gray if it
ain't."\par

Mont started.\par

"What did you say?" he asked bending low
over the tossing form.\par

"Water, water!" moaned Pooler, paying no
attention to the question.  "Give me a drink of
water, I'm burning up!"\par

Mont took up the pitcher which Meg had filled
at the spring, and held it to his lips.  The miser
took one sip, and then pushed it from him.\par

"Ha! ha! you can't fool me!" he screamed.
"You're in the water--the same old face!
Haven't I looked at it many a time from the deck
of the Kitty?  But you're dead, yes dead, and you
can't tell anything!" and he fell back on the bed
with a groan.\par

"You must keep quiet," said Mont, who, to tell
the truth, was highly excited himself; "you are
wounded in the shoulder, and will fare badly if you
don't take things easy."\par

But Pooler either could or would not pay any
attention to Mont's advice.  He kept muttering to
himself--at one moment apparently in his right
mind and at the next talking at random.\par

"Who did you say you were?" he asked during
a lucid interval.\par

The young man did not reply.  He knew that
under the circumstances to do so would only excite
the man.\par

"Oh, I know--Monterey Gray.  But you're
not.  Monterey Gray is dead," and the miser
chuckled.\par

"You are thinking of my father," said Mont
finally.\par

Max Pooler glared at him.\par

"'Tain't so!" he cried, and then, after a pause:
"Who was that other young man?"\par

"My friend, Jack Willington."\par

"Willington!" gasped Pooler, rising up.  "Both
of them; and they have come to take away the
money!  But Monterey Gray and Martin Willington
are both dead, and the gold and silver is mine!
Didn't I tell you so before?  It is all mine!"\par

\label{chasing-andy-mosey}%
\hypertarget{chasing-andy-mosey}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XXV.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ CHASING ANDY MOSEY}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
Jack's thoughts were busy as he hurried toward
the shore, where he expected to meet farmer
Farrell and the two prisoners.\par

"Pooler acts mighty queer to say the least,"
he told himself.  "I can't make it out at all,
excepting that I think we are on the edge of some
discovery of importance."\par

It was dark under the trees, and he had to
pick his way along as best he could.  Once he
lost the path and came close to running into a
small brook flowing halfway across the island.\par

Never for a moment did he imagine that either
of the two prisoners could get away from the
farmer and his hired man.\par

But in this he was mistaken.\par

Corrigan was too tightly bound to help himself,
but not so Andy Mosey.  The Irishman had
been so near complete intoxication that it had
not been deemed necessary to make his bonds
extra strong.\par

But finding himself a close prisoner had sobered
Mosey a good deal and long before the shore
was gained he made up his mind to escape if
he possibly could.\par

With a cunning that he had heretofore failed
to exhibit he began to act as if he was more
intoxicated than usual.\par

"Look out, or you'll go down!" was the
warning of the farmer.  "And if you do go
down you can pick yourself up, for I shan't
help you, excepting with a kick."\par

"Oi know me way," was Mosey's unsteady
reply.  "Oi'm comin'.  Don't ye worry about me."\par

Just as the vicinity of the shore was gained
Mosey slipped the bonds from first one hand and
then the other, taking care that not even his
brother-in-law should see him, for he was now
thinking of saving himself only.\par

"Come, don't drag," came from farmer Farrell.
"I am not going to stay here all night."\par

"Sure, an' Oi sthepped in a hole, the ould
b'y take the luck!" spluttered Mosey.  "Oi'm
comin' jhust as fast as Oi can!"\par

The farmer moved on and so did Corrigan
and the hired man.  Farmer Farrell had cautioned
the hired man to keep an eye on Mosey, but the
job was not at all to the fellow's taste and he
was thinking of nothing but to get back home,
where he had left a comfortable bed in the barn.\par

At last Mosey thought he saw his opportunity
and dropped further behind than ever, acting as
if he had lamed his foot.  Then of a sudden he
darted behind some trees and crashed away
through some bushes.\par

"Hi! stop!" roared farmer Farrell.  "Stop,
or I'll fire on you!"\par

To this Andy Mosey made no reply, but
increased his speed, so that he was soon quite a
distance from the island shore.  The farmer
gazed around in dismay, first at Corrigan and
then at his hired man.\par

"Go after him, you dunce!" he cried to the
hired man.  "I must watch this rascal.  Didn't
I tell you to keep an eye on the other fellow?"\par

"And I did, sir," was the weak answer.  "He
ran off before I knew it."\par

"Well, after him, I say!  Don't stand there
like a block of wood!"\par

"He--he may take it into his head to shoot
me," faltered the hired man.\par

"He hasn't any pistol, we disarmed him,"
returned the farmer, frantically.  "Are you
going after him or not?"\par

"I'll go, sir," said the hired man, and hurried
off as far as the bushes into which Mosey had
first disappeared.  But by that time the
Irishman was a good hundred yards away, and
running as rapidly as his limbs would carry him.\par

In the bushes the hired man came to a halt.
He pretended to look around, but he did not
venture a step further.\par

"Do you see him?" called out farmer Farrell.\par

"No, sir."\par

"Why don't you follow him up?"\par

"I don't know where he went to."\par

"He went up the shore.  Quick, follow him,
or I'll discharge you to-morrow morning."\par

Thus threatened the hired man started up the
shore and then moved in the direction of the
cottage, having a notion that Mosey might move
in that direction, although he might have known
better.  A minute later he heard footsteps and
came to a halt with his heart in his throat.\par

"If he attacks me I'm a goner!" he groaned,
and then saw that it was Jack and not Mosey
who was approaching.\par

"O, sir, he's got away!" he cried, with a
feeling of relief when he recognized the young
machinist.\par

"Got away?  Who?" questioned Jack, quickly.\par

"The rascal named Mosey."\par

"When?"\par

"Just a few minutes ago, sir--when we were
almost to the boat."\par

"What of Corrigan?"\par

"Mr. Farrell is watching him."\par

"But Mosey was bound?"\par

"I know it, sir.  But he got away anyhow,
and ran like a deer up the shore."\par

"Then he can't be far off," exclaimed Jack.
"Were you after him?"\par

"Yes, sir."\par

"But if he went up the shore----"\par

"I was a-thinking he might turn toward the
cottage."\par

"No, he didn't come this way."\par

"Then he must have gone that way."\par

"We must catch him," cried Jack, earnestly.
"He has done too many wrong deeds to be
allowed to escape in this fashion.  Come on,
follow me."\par

The young inventor pushed forward and the
hired man came after him, but at what he
considered a safe distance in the rear.  Soon Jack
was running up the shore at a point where there
was a wide open field, which Pooler had once
used for growing wheat.\par

As the young machinist came out on the edge
of the field he saw a dark form just leaving the
open space at the opposite side.  The form was
that of Mosey.\par

"Stop, Mosey!" he cried, loudly.  "Stop, it
will be best for you!"\par

The cry from Jack alarmed Andy Mosey more
than ever, and he tried to run with increased
speed.  But his first burst had been almost too
much for him, and he was panting loudly for breath.\par

"Sure an' Oi can't make it afther all," he
panted.  "Bad cess to Jack Willington fer
followin' me!  Oi wisht Oi had me pistol.  Oi'd
soon be afther sthopin' his game!"\par

But Mosey had nothing more than a sharp stone,
which he had picked up in the field, and at
present he saw no way of using this, for Jack
was too far off.\par

Feeling that he could not run much further,
he looked around for some place where he might
hide.  A gnarled tree with low-spreading branches
was not far away and to this he went and began
to climb the trunk with all possible speed.  Soon
he was some distance from the ground and then
he stretched himself on a limb and remained quiet.\par

Crossing the field at his best speed, Jack
darted in among the trees and peered around
sharply.  Of course he could see nothing of
Mosey, and he moved on for a distance of a
hundred feet or more.  Then he came back and
stood directly under the tree in which the
Irishman was hiding.  In the meantime the farmer's
hired man came to a halt in the middle of the
field, ready to run at the first sign of danger.\par

"Mosey!" called Jack.  "Mosey, you might
as well give yourself up.  You are bound to be
caught sooner or later."\par

He listened, but no reply came back.  Then
Jack walked around the tree.\par

Now had the Irishman kept quiet he might
have escaped the young inventor, but his
success at getting away made him extra bold, and
not knowing that the farm hand was near he
resolved to do Jack a great injury.  Bringing
the sharp stone from his pocket, he took careful
aim at Jack's head and let drive with all the
force he could command.\par

Had the stone landed as intended the young
inventor might have been killed, but as it was,
on the instant that Mosey threw the missile Jack
took a step forward, thinking to go on another
hunt for the Irishman.  Consequently the stone
merely grazed his shoulder, doing hardly any
damage.\par

Much startled, Jack leaped forward and then
turned around.  He did not know exactly where
Mosey was, but resolved to put on a bold front.\par

"So that is where you are!" he cried.  "Do
you want me to put a bullet through you?"\par

"Bad luck to yez!" growled Mosey, much
crestfallen.  "No, don't shoot me, Jack, me b'y.
It--it was all a mistake.  I thought ye was the
farmer, upon me wurrud."\par

"Do you surrender?"\par

"Yis, yis!"  Andy Mosey had a wholesome
fear of being shot, and he could not see whether
Jack had a pistol or not.\par

"How many more rocks have you up there?"\par

"Nary a wan, Jack, Oi only had the wan,
upon me honor."\par

"Then jump down here, and hold your hands
over your head.  If you try to play me another
trick I'll shoot you sure."\par

With a groan Andy Mosey descended to the
ground, and then held his hands over his head.\par

"Now turn around and march the way you
came.  And don't you dare to look back,"
continued the young inventor.\par

"But, Jack, me dear b'y----"\par

"I am not your dear boy, Mosey, and I won't
stop to parley with you."\par

"But, Jack, I didn't----"\par

"Stop it I say, and march.  Or do you want
to be in the fix Pooler is in?"\par

"No, no!  I'll march, Jack; don't shoot!"  And
without further ado Andy Mosey set off
for the shore, with Jack behind him, and the
farm hand bringing up at a safe distance to one
side.  Presently the farm hand ran ahead, to tell
farmer Farrell of how matters now stood.\par

As soon as the hired man had disappeared
Andy Mosey tried to argue again.\par

"It's Corrigan's doin's----" he began.\par

"Mosey, we won't talk now," said Jack at
last, for he saw that the Irishman's head was
not as clear as it might have been.  "If you
want to argue you can do it when we are in
the boat."\par

"But you'll be afther listenin' to me Jack,
me b'y?" pleaded Mosey.\par

"Perhaps."\par

"I want to be friends wid ye."\par

"You have a strange way of showing it."\par

"It's the liquor, Jack, me b'y--bad cess to it."\par

"Why don't you leave liquor alone then, Andy?"\par

"Sure, an' it would be a good job done if I
had niver touched a drap."\par

"You've spoken the truth there."\par

"If Oi iver git out av this hole Oi'll soign
the pledge, so Oi will."\par

"You might do worse."\par

"Say the wurrud, Jack, me b'y, an' Oi'll
soign it to-morrow," went on Mosey, thinking
he was winning the young inventor over.\par

"I'll say nothing more at present, Andy,
excepting that I want you to get along to the
shore, without further delay."\par

"But Jack, if Oi----"\par

"Not another word.  March!"\par

And then the march to the boat was resumed.\par

\label{papers-of-great-value}%
\hypertarget{papers-of-great-value}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XXVI.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ PAPERS OF GREAT VALUE}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
It did not take Jack and Mosey very long to
reach the shore.  They found Farmer Farrell,
gun in hand, stalking up and down impatiently.
He had ordered Corrigan into the row-boat, and
was lecturing him and the hired man at the same time.\par

"You've been a mighty long while coming," he
remarked, as the dim rays of the smoky lantern fell
upon the young machinist's face.\par

"I couldn't help it," replied Jack, and he briefly
related what had occurred to detain him so long.\par

They embarked at once.  The young machinist
set out to do the rowing, but was stopped by the
farmer, who directed Tim, the hired man to take
the oars.\par

"You're tired enough," said Farmer Farrell.
"Besides, we must keep a close eye on these two,
or they'll be up to their pesky tricks afore we
know it."\par

Tim pulled a good stroke.  He was anxious to
get out of such dangerous company and be safe in
his bed in the barn loft once more.\par

"Isn't there some way we can fix this matter
up?" asked Corrigan, after a long period of
thoughtful silence.\par

"What do you mean?" asked Jack.\par

"Why, buy ourselves off."\par

"No, sir, not a bit of it," returned the young
machinist, decidedly.\par

Corrigan winced.  The prospect of going to
prison was not a particularly inviting one.\par

"Oi say, Jack, me b'y, if we give up yer model
will ye be easy on us?" put in Mosey, who did
not know that that precious bit of property had
already been recovered.\par

"I have it already," replied Jack; "I don't
intend to be any harder on you than you deserve,"
he continued.  "You tried to take my friend's life
as well as mine, and also to set fire to Mr. Gray's
house, and by using the match-safe which belonged
to me, cast suspicion on my character, which has
not yet been cleared away."\par

"Who can prove I set foire to Felix Gray's
place?" demanded the Irishman, blusteringly.  His
tongue was clearer than it had been, but his head
was as muddled as ever.\par

"Perhaps I can."\par

"Ye can't, no how."\par

"Well, we'll see, and it will go hard with you
unless you can prove otherwise."\par

"Oi didn't do it.  It was Dennis's work,"
howled Mosey, breaking down completely.  "Oi
found the box and gave it ter him, and he kept it.
Didn't he stale the model, too, and run away wid
yer sister?  Oi niver harmed a soul, save when I
was in liquor," he whined.\par

"It's a lie!" shouted Corrigan, in a rage.  Had he
been free he would have struck down his confederate.\par

"It ain't, it's true, every worrud of it," responded
Mosey, doggedly.  "Ye always got me to do yer
dirty worruk, and now yer want me to stand all
der blame.  But Oi won't do it.  Oi'll turn Queen's
evidence first."\par

"If you turn state's evidence you may save
yourself a heap of trouble," put in Farmer Farrell.\par

"Oh, Oi'll do it, just mind me, if Oi don't,"
replied the Irishman, quickly.  He was thoroughly
cowed, and his one thought was how to best evade
the clutches of the law.\par

"You mean dog!" interrupted Corrigan, bitterly.
"You shall pay dearly for this;" and he grated
his teeth together in rancor.\par

"I don't think you will be able to harm him for
a good while," sagely remarked Farmer Farrell.\par

Corrigan became silent at once, and as each one
was busy with his own thoughts, the rest of the
trip was accomplished without further words.\par

On reaching the shore the party repaired at once
to Farmer Farrell's place where Tim, glad to be home
again, hitched up the team to the old family wagon.\par

"Is there a doctor anywhere near?" asked Jack;
"I promised to send one over to the island."\par

"Dr. Melvin lives just up the road," replied the
farmer.  "We'll stop and tell him, and Tim can
row him over.  Do you hear, Tim?"\par

"Yes, sir," replied the farm hand.  "To-morrow
morning will do, I suppose."\par

"To-morrow morning!" repeated the farmer, in
surprise.  "No, indeed, right away.  And if you
can't get Dr. Melvin, go over to Dr. Dell's and
take him straight to Pooler's cottage.  Tell him
that the man has a bullet in his shoulder."\par

Much as he disliked the job, the hired man did not
dare to complain; so with a heavy sigh he set off
on his errand, traveling through the dark as fast
as his heavy boots would permit.\par

The family wagon contained two seats.  Farmer
Farrell took the front one, with Mosey beside him,
while Jack, with Corrigan, sat in the rear, and then
the horses were started on the road to Corney.\par

"We will stop at the old mill and get my
model," said Jack, on the way.\par

At the old structure everything was dark and deserted.\par

"Say, Oi'll go along wid ye," said Mosey, as
the young machinist dismounted from his seat.
"There's something there Oi want to show ye."\par

Corrigan wished to interfere, but Jack, who
believed that the Irishman was now really inclined to
render assistance, would not let him.\par

"There are some papers that belong to
Mr. Gray.  Dennis stole them when the house was
burning," said Mosey, when he and Jack were
alone.  "Oi can't read, but Dennis said they'd be
worth money to us some day."\par

"Where are they?" asked Jack, with interest.\par

"Will you be aisy on me if Oi tell ye?" asked
Mosey.\par

"Perhaps I will."\par

"Oi'll trust ye," replied Mosey.  "They're up
stairs, under the flure."\par

They ascended the stairs, and taking up a board
that Mosey pointed out, Jack drew out a small,
oblong packet.\par

"I can't read it now," said the young machinist.
"Come along.  If the contents are valuable I'll see
that you get full credit for giving it up."\par

He put the packet in his pocket, and taking up
the model, made the Irishman precede him down
to the wagon.  They were soon on the way again,
the precious model safely stowed away in the front
of the vehicle.\par

"I guess Mr. Benton will be rather surprised
when he learns the true state of affairs," thought
Jack to himself.  "But his treatment of Deb was
shameful, and I shall tell him so."\par

As they passed an old barn near the outskirts of
the town all heard a loud cry, the scuffle of many
feet, and then the door of the place burst open.\par

"Hello, what's all this?" exclaimed Jack.
"Some one in trouble!"\par

Through the open doorway sprang a tall man.
He was but partly dressed, and one side of his face
bore a thick coating of black.  He ran directly
toward the road, and was followed by a dozen or
more men wearing masks.\par

Seeing the wagon he made for it as fast as his
legs would carry him.\par

"Save me, save me!" he gasped.  "Get me
away from these villains, and I will pay you well!"
and in frantic haste he clambered over the wheel
and into the front of the vehicle.\par

"What's the trouble!" asked Farmer Farrell in
astonishment, while Jack took up the gun.\par

"They want to tar and feather me!" was the
panting reply.  "See they made a beginning;"
and the excited individual held his face up to view.\par

"Mr. Gray!" ejaculated the young machinist.\par

He had not time to say more, for at that instant
Corrigan, taking advantage of the excitement, hit
Jack under the chin with his head, and then leaped
to the ground.  In doing so he fell, but picked
himself up quickly, and hopped as fast as he could
down the road.\par

A second later the wagon was surrounded by the
masked men, all armed and gesticulating wildly.\par

"Give him up, Willington!" they yelled.  "Give
up Gray, or we'll tar and feather the lot of you!"\par

\label{love-your-enemies-conclusion}%
\hypertarget{love-your-enemies-conclusion}{}%
{}

\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\Large\strut{CHAPTER XXVII.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\normalsize{ "LOVE YOUR ENEMIES"--CONCLUSION}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
It was a thrilling scene, the brawny men, their
intended victim, the would-be rescuers, all in
confusion.\par

One of the masked men attempted to pull
Mr. Felix Gray to the ground, but the tool
manufacturer held fast to the front seat.\par

"Stop that!" roared Farmer Farrell.\par

"We want that man!" called out a person in
the mob.\par

"No, no!  Save me! save me!" cried Mr. Gray,
frantically.\par

"We will not give him up," exclaimed Jack.
"It's a shame to treat a dog in this fashion!"\par

"He threw us out of work.  He won't give us
our money.  He wants to starve us and our
families," called out several.\par

"Listen!" yelled Jack, as loud as he could.
"Some of you know me.  I work in the tool
works; I haven't got my money, and need it as
badly as any of you.  But I say you'll never gain
anything by acting this way.  Let Mr. Gray go."\par

"We want him and we're going to have him,"
exclaimed the man at the wagon, grimly, and he
renewed his efforts to pull the tool manufacturer
from the seat.\par

"You shall not," replied Jack, determinedly,
and raising the gun, he hit the man a sharp blow
upon the hand, which made him instantly release
his hold.\par

"Go for 'em, fellows!" the man howled out,
shaking the injured member in evident pain.\par

The crowd began instantly to close in upon the
wagon.  Mosey, in the excitement, tried his best
to gain the ground, but Farmer Farrell had taken
the precaution to tie the Irishman's feet fast to the
iron foot rest, and he was unable to stir.\par

"We must get out of this!" exclaimed Jack to
the farmer.  "Start up the horses.  Quick!"\par

Farmer Farrell needed no further urging.  Reaching
over Mr. Gray's body, he pulled up the reins,
and struck first one and then the other of the horses
with his whip.\par

With a bound the animals leaped forward.  The
man who had held a grip upon the tool manufacturer's
foot lost it, and slipped under the vehicle--the
hind wheel passing over his leg.\par

The crowd uttered a loud cry, but were too late to
stop the sudden movement.  One of the men caught
hold of the tailboard of the wagon, but a
threatening shake from the young machinist's gun made
him drop to the ground.\par

On they went, Farmer Farrell making the horses
do their very best.\par

Suddenly a pistol shot rang out, and Mosey gave
a cry of pain.\par

"Oi'm shot!" he cried, falling backward upon
Jack.  "They've murdered me, so they have!"\par

"Where are you hit?" asked the young machinist anxiously.\par

"In the soide.  Oi'm dy--in'----"\par

Another pistol shot interrupted his speech.\par

"Gitting kinder hot," cried the farmer.  "Let
me have the gun.  Here, hold the reins," and he
gave them to Jack and took the weapon.  "We'll
see what a dose of buckshot will do."\par

Bang!\par

The report was followed by several cries from
behind.\par

"That'll teach the pesky critters a lesson,"
observed the farmer, as he resumed the reins.\par

Even as he spoke, they saw a flash in the darkness
to one side of the road, followed instantly by
the crack of a revolver.\par

"I'm struck!" exclaimed Mr. Gray.  "The
villain has hit me in the shoulder!"\par

"Is it bad?" asked Jack in horror.\par

"No, only a flesh wound, I guess," and the tool
manufacturer drew a sharp breath.  "Drive on,
don't stop!"\par

The command was not needed.  The team was
now in full gallop, and three minutes brought
them into the heart of the town.\par

"Straight home," replied Mr. Gray, in return
to a question from Jack as to where he should be
taken.  "And bring Mosey along, the doctor can
attend us both."\par

This was done, and the family physician
pronounced the Irishman's wound quite serious.\par

"Yours will heal rapidly," he said to the tool
manufacturer.  "But your right arm will never be
as good as it was.  That workman may recover,
but it will take months."\par

The sun was just rising when Jack, after a
breakfast that Farmer Farrell's wife had compelled
him to eat, took the boat and rowed over to
Blackbird Island.\par

Deb saw him coming and rushed out of the
cottage to meet him.\par

"Oh, Jack, such a time as we've had!" she
sobbed.  "The doctor is here, and that Pooler just
died."\par

"Pooler dead?" ejaculated the young machinist,
in amazement.\par

He entered the back room.  The doctor and Meg
were there, the girl's eyes swollen from crying.\par

"Where is Mont?" he asked.\par

Meg pointed to the other door.\par

"He's in there too," she said, in a quivering voice.\par

Jack entered the front chamber.  Max Pooler's
body lay on the cot, covered with a white sheet.
Beside it, on a low stool, with his face buried in
his hands, sat Mont.\par

The young man's countenance was full of
emotion.  He took the young machinist's hand in his
own, and pulled the covering from the dead face
before them.\par

"Listen, Jack," he said in a low voice, "I want
to tell you an awful secret.  Before this man died,
he confessed that he murdered my father.  He was
very penitent, and he--he asked me to forgive him."\par

"And you----" began Jack.\par

"I did forgive him.  It was hard, but how could
I refuse a dying man?"\par

"You did right," returned the young machinist.
"But, oh, Mont, I'm so sorry for you!  Did he
tell you how it came about?"\par

"Yes.  He used to be my father's clerk, and
avarice led him to steal.  By some means he
imagined my father knew of his doings, and was
about to have him arrested.  Half crazed by
this fear, he went on board my father's yacht
one night and cast her adrift while my father
was sleeping in the stateroom.  The yacht went
over the falls, and turned up where we found her."\par

"And your father?"\par

"Was found dead in the cabin.  He said my
uncle suspected him, but as Mr. Felix Gray was
trying to rob me of my share of the tool works
property, he turned the tables, and threatened not
only to expose him, but to implicate him in the
murder as well.  My uncle has been paying him
money for years to keep him quiet, but part of this
went to Mosey and Corrigan as 'hush money,' so
Pooler said.\par

"It's a strange story," mused Jack.\par

"But that isn't all," continued Mont.  "Before
he died Pooler proved to me that about one-half of
his treasure belonged really to you."\par

"To me!" ejaculated the young machinist, in
utter astonishment.\par

Mont nodded.\par

"Yes, to you," he said.  "Pooler said my father
held it in trust for your father, who was not a good
hand at investing money.  The amounts were the
proceeds of several valuable inventions."\par

"Then we are both rich," returned Jack, with a
broad smile.  "I am glad of it, for Deb's sake!"
he added, brightly.\par

A little later the young machinist related what
had happened on the river road the night before.\par

"And now we'll have the whole affair straightened
out," he concluded.  "I believe your uncle
has had all the ups and downs he cares for, and
will let you have your own without much opposition."\par

"I trust so," replied Mont.  "I do not care, as
I said before, to make the thing public, but it has
gone far enough, and both of us must have our
rights."\par

"And then I must get the fire and the model
matters squared up and go to work on a bigger scale,"
added Jack.  "I declare I've had adventures
enough in the past four days to last me a lifetime!"\par

Five years have passed since the above words
were spoken.  Mont is now the sole owner of the
Corney Tool Works, and the Mechanics' Savings
Bank is once again a flourishing institution.
Mr. Felix Gray has relinquished all rights to both, and
is content to pass the remainder of his days in
helping his nephew along the road to fortune.\par

Mosey recovered, and is now a steady workman.
He has signed the pledge, and intends to stick to
it.  Corrigan was never heard of after his jump
from the wagon, and no one has ever taken the
trouble to find out what became of him.\par

Jack is now superintendent at the tool works,
and besides his salary, draws a handsome royalty
from his father's and his own inventions.  Through
Mr. Benton--who was profuse in his offers of help
when he learned the true state of affairs--the
patent of the improved planer was sold for four
thousand dollars, of which half came to the young
machinist.\par

Deb--Jack's best girl--is now Mrs. Monterey
Gray, and though she lives in one of the finest
mansions of the town, is still the true and faithful
little housekeeper she always was.  Meg, upon
whom Mont has settled a neat sum, lives with her,
and Miss Parks is a frequent and welcome visitor
at the place.\par

A few weeks ago, while visiting at Corney, I
met Deb driving out to Farmer Farrell's place, and
asked her how her brother was getting on.\par

"Jack?  Why, I declare you'd hardly know
him, he's so awfully tall!  And he's got a beard
all over his face.  Business is splendid, but then
Jack always said that any one who did right, and
stuck to his work, would get along!"\par

And Deb is right.  Do you not think so, gentle reader?\par


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