_ _ _ _ _ _ Mm % _ _ P _ _ ff; RAPIDS LIBRARY l l Au 4.»\m...»s WIICHJGAN 1 l l as-r/muswzo 1a71 _ _ _ _ THE MAY G.QUlGLEY ‘ COLLECTION OF CHILD REN'S LITERATURE -mw l ,— '~~-,"-fe. N’ =‘",‘**'w~vIcE WAR IN THE HOUSE . . . A DECIDED Vrcrony . . . . Fox FURTHER INFORMATION . . A SMALL FIRE . . . . . PREPARATIONS FOR THE CRUISE . CAPTAIN MADDY FAYRTHORNE . MR. PALLINGROvE’S VISIT . . A Srow.\w.ur 0N THE "$LEEPER" . PALLINGROVE WASHED OUT . . PALLINGROVE VISITS CQNEY ISLAND STEALING A Muzcn . . . . IN LITTLE QUEEN STREET . . WATCHING NUMBER NINETEEN . Mn. BUCKLEY WADLAW . . . A FLOOD or INFORMATION . . IN SEARCH or A GRANDFATHER . MY ADVENTURE IN SOUTHAMPTON . THE MAN IN HIS SHIRT SLEEVES . PIG! 5 13 21 29 39 47 55 62 71 79 87 95 104 112 120 126 136 144 152 160 170 177 ii CONTENTS unann- XXIII. XXIV. XXV. XXVI. XXVII. XXVIII. XXIX. XXX. XXXI. XXXII. XXXIII. XXXIV. XXXV. XXXVI. XXXVII. XXXVIII. XXXIX. XL. XLI. XLII. A PRISONER on THE “OLIVIA” . An INTERVIEW WITH Sm MORGAN A NEW DECLARATION or WAR . A TROUBLESOME PURSUEI‘. . . NEws FROM NEW Yonx . . WE MEET A NEW SPY . . MADDY INTERVIEWS MR. Prcxwrcx THE REv. ARCHIBALD MALDRAKE EXAMINING THE EVIDENCE . LIGHT CAST Upon DARK SUBJECTS A SUDDEN CHANGE . . . LocxEn UP IN A STATEROOM . VALUABLE INFORMATION . . SIR MORGAN OvERcoME . . AN ENCOUNTER m THE CABIN . Sm M01104»: In DEEP Dxsmw . SOME ATTEMPTS To NEGOTIATE . LAW on THE Hum SEAS . . THE DIVISION or THE ESTATE . A FINAL INTERVIEW . . . FAG! 185 192 201 208 215 223 230 237 245 252 259 267 274 282 290 296 303 311 316 323 ILLUSTRATIONS I HAD OPENED A LETTER INTENDED FOR MY FATHER (Page 23) . . . . . . . Frontispiece FACING PAGI HE LOOKED AS THOUGH HE HAD JUST CRAWLED OUT OF THE OCEAN . . . . . . HE CAME TOWARDS ME AGAIN "I SEE THAT THE wnouc TRUTH HAS comm our . . 110 . 190 " . 328 6 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN laughing, to soften the sharpness of my criticism. “But I don’t believe you are serious, my dear skipper.” “I am as serious as ever I was in my life.” “And you really mean what you say ?” “Of course I mean what I say. Do you think I am a pullet that cackles as though I were going to join a comic-opera troupe?” “I see you are. But throw your nonsense over- board, Maddy, and let us talk like two sensible young men,” I replied, rising from my chair, for we were in the front parlor of my father’s house in New York. I seated myself again directly in front of Maddy, and looked him in the eye. He was as demure as though he had just proposed to go to church. “So you really mean to say that you think of cross- ing the Atlantic in the Sleeper?” I asked, still looking him straight in the eye. Maddy burst into a violent laugh. “What is the matter now? Have you got another of your serious fits F” I interposed, not conscious that I had said anything funny. “You are a dear, good fellow, Gay, and I love you more than I should any six brothers, if I had any,” he answered. “But you put it just as though I had suggested the crossing of the Atlantic in a sleeping car. I never had any such idea.” THE SERIOUS YOUNG MAN 7 “I am not responsible for the absurd name of your yacht.” “I like the name,” growled Maddy. “Of course you do. You delight in calling black white, and white black. Because your yacht is excep- tionally fast and able for one of her kind, you called her the Sleeper.” “Never mind the name. Everything that denoted speed, liveliness, had been taken up when I had to give a name to the yacht. Sleeper is a serious name, and I like it. I propose to cross the Atlantic in her.” “I understand you perfectly now, Maddy. Couldn’t you amend the proposition a little, and say that you intend to visit the moon in her?” “But I don’t propose to visit the moon in her. With all my efforts to make you serious like myself, you are still flighty. I think of visiting Europe in the Sleeper, and not the moon.” “About the same thing.” “What an absurd old chicken you are, Gay! The Sleeper is bigger than the ships of Columbus, Hendrik Hudson, or any of those ancient ‘fellows. By old measurement she is nearly a hundred tons. She is big enough to go around the world. If I don’t back down, she will put her keel into all the salt waters of Eu~ rope,” 0 4 8 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “I dare say you are quite right in regard to the abil- ity of the Sleeper to cross the ocean. I did not dis- pute that; but the idea of a young fellow of barely eighteen going off on such a cruise is what looks wild to me,” I reasoned, as amiably as I could. “Call it two young fellows of that age, for, of course, you are going with me,” added Maddy, looking anx- iously into my face. “I don’t know about that,” I answered. But my heart leaped with delight at the idea of vis- iting Europe. _ “Hush! There goes the doorbell! Somebody is coming. Don’t say a word about the trip. It is a secret, and I wouldn’t have anything said about it for all the world,” interposed Maddy. And I had no occasion to doubt his seriousness on this point. “Is it a runaway cruise ?” I asked, in a whisper, and with very grave misgivings. “Nothing of the sort, Gay. My father and mother know all about it; took a week to consider it, and then gave their willing consent. But not a word, and I will explain another time.” The servant announced Mr. Pallingrove. He was a friend of rnine, though at least ten years older than I was. I had made his acquaintance in an ro STRIVING FOR HIS OWN other ought to follow his example. Why don’t you say ‘Charley,’ as all the rest of my intimate friends do ?” “I am a mere boy of seventeen, and you are a man in stature and in years. It seems hardly the thing to speak to you as though you were a fellow of my own age,” I replied, laughing. “But we are the best of friends, and I wish you to speak to me as you would to an older brother, you know,” protested my visitor. “I have an intense admiration for you, and I don’t wish any formality in our intercourse.” “just as you please, Charley,” I added, with a smile. “But friends should be honest and candid with each other.” “Exactly so! That is just what I have always said since I was old enough to say anything. A man can be my friend without being a friend to my faults and errors,” replied Mr. Pallingrove warmly. “I quite agree with you; but what was the occasion of your making use of that remark at this time?” “Because I must honestly and candidly say that I think you are overdoing this matter.” “I don’t understand,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “just now you had an intense admiration for me. 12 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN I could not accept his invitation, for I was already engaged. He would not give it up until I had told him that I was to make a yacht trip to Sandy Hook. He left me, and I sat for some time wondering why a man ten years my senior should take such a fancy to me. As I left the house to join Maddy, the postman put a letter in my hand. It was addressed to me, and I put it in my pocket. MYSELF AND MY FATHER I3 CHAPTER II. MYSELF AND MY FATHER. I made my way to the East River, where the Sleeper had been moored, thinking of what Charley Pal- lingrove had said to me. Young as I was, I was still modest enough to understand that he was very ex- travagant in his speech. Being so greatly my senior in years, he was not just the associate I should have sought, and he was not just the kind of person I cared to be very inti- mate with, for he was inclined to be “fast,” I thought. I made his acquaintance by accident. I was ex- ceedingly fond of music, and went to the opera when I could. One night, the person sitting next to me be- gan to groan as though he was in great pain. It was just before the curtain fell at the end of the last act. As the audience rose to depart, he became more violent in his demonstrations. I could not do less than offer to assist him. The person on the other side of him did the same; but the sufferer rejected his attentions and clung to me. The sufferer was Mr. Pallingrove. I gave him my arm and conducted him out of the building. He 14 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN R thought some brandy would relieve him, and he dragged me into a barroom. By the time we reached the street he was very much better. He pressed me to drink with him; but I refused to do so. I never tasted anything intoxicating under any circumstances. I had seen enough brandy drink- ing in my own home to set me against it for all the days of my life. The brandy cured Mr. Pallingrove, though he seemed to me to have recovered before he drank it. If I had saved his life at the peril of my own, he could not have been more grateful or more profuse in his expressions of gratitude. He acted as though he wanted to hug me. He called a carriage and insisted upon taking me home. When we parted he begged the favor of my acquaint- ance as though I had been a magnate of the first water. For the next month he called upon me about every other day. Half the time I was not at home, and he left his card. He took me to the opera several times, and I had been out to ride with him in Central Park twice. He would have done something with me every day in the week if I had permitted. I saw in the beginning that he was disposed to lead me into bad places. He used all his arts and persua- sion to induce me to drink with him; but after the _ MYSELF AND MY FATHER 15 first time, I resolutely refused to enter a saloon with him. He continued to follow me up with the utmost per- sistency, in spite of my frequent refusals to join him 77 in what he called his “exhilarating pleasures. His devotion to me was a mystery. I had known him about three months when my story opens. I came to the conclusion that he wanted to “bring me out” as a singer or a mimic in the theatre or other public exhibitions. I had a secret of my own in this connection, which I had not revealed to Maddy Fayr- thorne, much less to Mr. Pallingrove. Though he often hinted at my making my fortune as a singer or a mimic, I never took the bait. He never went beyond a hint, and his devotion to me be- came more of a mystery than ever. After all he might be sincere, and I had to leave my doubts unsolved. I had introduced him to Maddy, and they had met two or three times. But my yachting friend disliked him exceedingly, and never would invite him to sail in the Sleeper, though Maddy seldom made a trip with- out me. In fact, I was the second mate of the yacht, though it was an honorary rather than a working position. I was on board of the yacht, which was a beautiful 16 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN schooner, built by Herreshoff, half an hour before Maddy made his appearance. While waiting for him, I may as well give a few particulars in regard to my family relations and past life. On the doorplate of our house was the name. of Milton Brooks. This was my father’s name. He had been twice married, though both of his wives were now dead. I was the son of the first, and the second had died ten years before. My mother died in my infancy, and my father had brought me from England, where I was born, when I was less than a year old. This was about all I could ever learn in regard to myself which dated farther back than my own memory reached. I had asked my father, years before, a great many questions about his family in England, and especially about my mother. At first he evaded making any definite replies, and when I was a dozen years old my desire for information concerning the family in Eng- land made him morose and angry. I soon learned that it was a forbidden topic, and I ceased to meddle with it. My father told me that he had been a courier in his younger days, and had trav- eled all over Europe with the 'nobility and gentry of MYSELF AND MY FATHER r7 England. In this capacity he had learned four lan- guages besides his own. He had no business of any kind, and for his own amusement, rather than my profit, he taught me the languages he had picked up in his former occupation. He knew nothing of the grammatical structure of any of these tongues, not even the English. He had learned them by the “natural method,” as a child learns to talk. He taught me in the same manner. He bought a grammar and some other books of all these languages for me. When I was sixteen I knew more about French, German, Italian, and Spanish than he did; and for six years, most of the evenings and a portion of the days were spent in practicing in foreign con- versation. At sixteen I had learned a great deal of the gram- mar of the languages, and I began to correct the speech of my father. He would not stand this; it made him angry. The result was that he discontin- ued his lessons. He refused to say anything to me except in English, for it made him furious when I used his forms in correct language, or adopted a proper pronunciation. I studied French and German in school, and prac- ticed Italian and Spanish with my music teacher. 18 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN My father never manifested anything like paternal affection for me. He did not ill-treat or abuse me; he was simply utterly indifferent to me. He paid my tuition bills without grumbling, includ- ing those of a rather expensive music professor—a Spaniard who had spent most of his life in Italy. But he rarely gave me a dime to spend on myself. On the recommendation of Professor De Marchena, my music teacher, he paid for my ticket to the opera once or twice a week during the season. For a year before my story opens, my father had spent most of his time alone in his library. About once a week he gave a dinner party to a few of his friends, never exceeding half a dozen. So far as I could learn, he seldom, if ever, dined out of the house. His guests did not reciprocate his dinners. I was never allowed to be present at even one of them. There was a reason for my exclusion, for host and guests drank brandy as long as they could see out of their eyes. He took little or no notice of’me after our conver- sation ceased. I had perfect liberty. If I was out till midnight, no questions were asked. If I wanted a dollar, or any other sum above a nickel, I was sure of a savage refusal. On the house bills of a certain concert company MYSELF AND MY FATHER 19 the name of “Augustus Leslie” was not unfamiliar to amusement seekers. I was Augustus Leslie. I sang in a quartette, and gave imitations of prominent actors and orators. From five dollars a week, my salary had been increased to twenty-five. A variety establishment had written a letter to “Mr. Leslie,” offering him double this salary. I refused to connect myself with a theatre. I used but little of the money I secretly earned, and put most of it into a savings bank. My deposit now amounted to about a thousand dollars. It seemed to me that my father was running down hill very fast. I spoke to Mrs. Falgood, the house- keeper, about it; but she insisted that he was all right, and told me I had better mind my own business. My father’s financial affairs were as much a mys- tery to me as his antecedents. He did not own the house in which we lived, or any other real estate, so far as I could learn. He had nothing to do with any bank; but he always seemed to have money enough to pay all his bills. Once or twice a year a letter came to him from London. I never saw the inside of one of these let- ters, and knew not who his English correspondent was. A question about the letters made him very angry. I noticed that whenever one of these letters was BY SPECIAL PROVIDENCE :1 CHAPTER III. BY SPECIAL PROVIDENCE. The Sleeper had been hauled up alongside the pier, though she was generally anchored ofi’ in the stream. I was looking up Rivington Street all the time I was opening the letter. I did not even glance at it, and only saw that it was secured with sealing wax when I took it from my pocket. A person receiving a letter but seldom is very likely to look at the outside of it, and wonder whom it comes from. I had read my own name on the envelope when the postman gave it to me, and had seen that it was in the peculiar handwriting of Professor De Marchena. He had been out of town, and was to in- form me when he would give his next lesson. But the letter was not in his writing, I saw the in- stant I looked at it. The hand was quite as peculiar, though entirely different from that of the professor. I glanced at the signature, but it did not enlighten me. It was not an easy matter to decipher the writing, but I went to work upon the task at once. There was no “dear sir,” or any other formal ad- 22 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN dress, at the beginning. I soon studied it out, and within five minutes I had read it four times. If an earthquake had lifted the Sleeper from her moorings, and carried her to the middle of the Bow- ery, with me on board, I could not have been more shaken up than I was by the contents of this letter. just then I did not care whether Maddy came or not, or when the professor would give me the next lesson. I was utterly lost to everything around me. I was startled through every nerve of my frame. I was confounded, and then overwhelmed, by the stun- ning import of the document in my hand. This was the letter: “Your demand is unreasonable. We will not pay fifty thousand pounds, or even a half or a quarter of that sum. The only person, besides yourself, who could identify the boy, is Maldrake. He has not been heard of for ten years, and he is dead without a doubt. “Though the term expires in about two years, we are willing to continue the annuity of one thousand pounds as long as you live, and to pay you at once the five thousand pounds you say you need. “If you tell the boy that you are not his father, you will kill the goose that lays the golden eggs. He can never come into possession of the property, and, there- fore, cannot pay you better than we do. “I warn you again, as I have done twice before, BY SPECIAL PROVIDENCE 23 that all you do is observed and reported to us. If you proceed in your treacherous course, your very life is in danger. P. GRANTHAM. “London.” Of course, this letter was not intended for me. But its contents plainly concerned me more than any other person on the face of the earth. It was intended for the person whom I had always regarded as my father. It fully explained why he had never been a father to me. I had dropped the envelope on the floor of the standing room. I desired to ascertain how I had made the mistake of opening a letter for Milton Brooks, supposing it to be addressed to me. I picked up the envelope, which lay with the broken seal upward. When I turned it over, I found an- other letter directed to me. The mucilage on the back of it had been moistened in some way, and it stuck to the face of the London epistle. When I pulled them apart, I found the address of Milton Brooks, as it always appeared on the face of his London letters. The handwriting was the same, but plainer than that inside of the missive. In a word, I had opened a letter intended for my father. I had read it through before I realized that it was not addressed to me. Possibly I was careless, 24 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN but I was entirely innocent of any intentional wrong. I would not have broken the seal of a letter for an- other person even if I had suspected the nature of its contents. Indeed, I had such a consciousness of innocence that it seemed to be a special providence which had ar- ranged the circumstances of getting the contents of this letter to my knowledge. A bit of mucilage and a little moisture on the hand of the postman had put me in possession of a most momentous secret, the revealing of which must change the whole course of my life. I could not regard it as an accident, except in a very narrow human view of a trivial circumstance. It was a wise Providence which had brought about this in- itial step in the unmasking of Milton Brooks and his correspondents in London. In the very moment of my discovery this thought took possession of my mind. My relations with my supposed father were suffi- ciently explained by this letter. Now I had the key to his coldness and indifference. I need hardly say that I was glad to find that he was not my father. We have no choice in selecting our fathers; but Mil- ton Brooks was not the sort of person I would have chosen if I had been consulted in the matter. _ Somebody on the other side of the Atlantic paid BY SPECIAL PROVIDENCE 2 5 him a thousand pounds a year to support himself and me, and keep from me the secret that he was not my father. “P. Grantham,” who used the first person plural, as though he represented some one or more besides him- self, spoke of the “property” in his letter. Doubtless this was the estate of my father. I concluded that he must be no longer living. If he were, he would hold the “property” himself. Milton Brooks was assured that I could never come into possession of it. I These statements indicated that I had been wronged and cheated out of my inheritance. The estate must be very considerable, or those in possession of it could not afford to pay Milton Brooks nearly five thousand dollars a year, and nearly twenty-five thousand dol- lars he happened to need, to keep the secret that I was not his son. As I reckoned it, they had paid, and proposed to pay, about a hundred thousand dollars, without going beyond the immediate future. “All you do is observed and reported to us,” said Mr. Grantham. The conspirators had one or more spies in their em- ploy. Mrs. Falgood, the housekeeper, was an English- woman, and I wondered if she was not one of them. She took good care of Milton Brooks, though she 26 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN seemed to be entirely willing that he should drink himself to death. When I suggested that something might be done to check his downward career, she told me that he was doing very well, and that I had better mind my own affairs. I now recalled the fact that I had occasionally seen Mrs. F algood engaged in writing letters. No letters ever came for her, and she never asked me to mail a letter for her. I felt certain that she was the person who “ob- served” and “reported” upon everything done by Mil- ton Brooks. Very likely she was the only one, for I could think of no one else who was in position to observe the actions of my supposed father. Milton Brooks had evidently proposed to compro- mise with his fellow conspirators. He asked an enor- mous sum as the price of his silence, which P. Gran- tham refused to pay. This sum was probably a com- mutation of the annuity. He had the tremendous secret, and he could demand any sum he pleased. His employers had certainly been liberal, judging by only what this letter revealed, and they were willing to be even more so. After I had considered the revelations of the mo- mentous letter, I wondered at the marvelous stupidity BY SPECIAL PROVIDENCE 27 of “P. Grantham” in trusting so much of his secret to the chances of a sealed envelope. But that was part of the special providence. I had the facts, and had drawn my own inferences from them. I had constructed a theory of the doings of the conspirators, as a skillful scientist describes an extinct animal from a survey of a few bones. I was entitled, of my natural right, to a name and estate in England. Milton Brooks was employed and paid to keep me out of it. Of so much I was absolutely cer- tain. The theory settled, the next thing was action. In spite of Milton Brooks and the spies who watched him, I would defeat the conspirators. My first impulse was to confront my father, and demand my rights. I think I should have done this if I had not seen Maddy Fayrthorne coming down the pier. just then it occurred to me that there were difficul- ties in my path. Milton Brooks knew all about the business by which I had been robbed of my birthright. He knew, but he would not tell. The only other person who could identify the boy was Maldrake, who was probably dead. In short, I was in the power of Milton Brooks. He alone could save me, was my last view. Maddy came on board. I did not heed him. I-Ie 28 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN stood some time in the standing room looking at me. He could not help seeing in my appearance that some- thing had happened to me. Maddy could not possibly be one of P. Grantham’s spies, and I decided on the instant to tell him what the letter had revealed to me. He was the only intimate friend I had, if I except Mr. Pallingrove. A SCHOONER-LOAD OF ADVICE 29 CHAPTER IV. A SCHOONER-LOAD or ADVICE. “What is the matter, Gay? You look as though you hadn’t a friend in the world but me,” said Maddy Fayrthorne, after he had looked at me in silence for a while. “I don’t think I have, Maddy. I am utterly alone in the world,” I replied. And the feeling that I was the victim of a conspir- acy no doubt made me look like a martyr waiting for the stake. “What do you mean by that? Has your father died since I left you at your house? I see you have be- come serious, like me,” he added, with mock solem- nity. “I have no father !” “No father!” exclaimed Maddy. “Then the gentle- 77 man i n “He is not my father, and never was I” I interposed. _ And possibly a little of the tragic muse worked it- self into my manner. “If he ever was your father, it would stand to rea- son that he was your father at the present time, if he 30 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN is still in the land of the living; and I suppose you wouldn’t be here if he had gone hence. It says ‘Mil- ton Brooks’ on the door of your house, and if that 77 gentleman ever was “He never was !” I broke in, very much agitated, as the situation flashed through my mind anew. “Mil- ton Brooks never was my father, though I always 77 supposed he was. “What’s broken, Gay? What has come over you? You didn’t show anything of this sort when I saw you at home. I thought you were getting serious, but you have levity enough to fit out a circus clown.” “Since I left you, Maddy, I have found out that Milton Brooks is not my father,” I answered, crowd- ing down the emotions that were struggling for ex- pression. “I can’t go on this trip with you; I must go up to the house, and have the biggest row I ever got into in my life.” I moved toward the gangway. H I should judge by your actions that something dreadful had happened, Gay. The only thing for you to do just now is to keep cool.” “I will try to do that.” Il We were to talk over the run across the ocean on this trip, Gay, and I promised to tell you all about it.” A SCI-IOONER-LOAD OF ADVICE 31 “I have lost my interest in that trip,” I added mood- ily. . “You have found out that Milton Brooks is not your father. I shouldn’t groan over that. From what I have heard you say, he is not much of a father, and you won’t miss him greatly.” “Milton Brooks is a villain !” “I don’t know about that; but as a father to Gay Brooks, I should say he was not a success.” “I don’t know what to do,” I exclaimed, bewildered, as I considered the difficulties in my path. “I’m sure I don’t,” added Maddy, shrugging his shoulders. “But I think you could walk up and pick up half a dozen fathers who would do better service in that line than Mr. Brooks." “I can trust you, Maddy ?” “If you think so, Gay, lend me a dollar.” “Come into the cabin, and I will tell you all about it, Maddy,” I continued; for I felt that I needed ad- vice, if not support, in my trying position. “I don’t ask any questions, and I don’t mind any- body’s business but my own,” replied Maddy. “Don’t tell me anything for my sake.” “But I want your advice.” “Advice is cheap, certainly; and I can give you enough to load a schooner.” 32 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN lI This is a very serious matter for me, Maddy.” “Then it is just in my line, Gay. But while you are spinning your yarn, and I am giving you a schooner- load of advice, why can’t we run down to Sandy Hook?” “I don’t object, though I intended to pitch into Milton Brooks at once. We will look the matter over on the trip. But no one must hear what I say; it might ruin me, destroy me.” Maddy called Mr. Waxall, the mate. and ordered him to get the yacht under way. We retired to the cabin, and I produced the letter of P. Grantham. Maddy read it; then he read it again, and after that a third time. He did not say a word, and I sat on needles. Then he began to construct a theory out of the facts. He reached about the same conclusion I had. “But what am I to do, Maddy? That is the great question with me; in fact, it is the only question,” I interposed, when I saw that he was coming out just where I had before he reached the yacht. “Excuse me, Gay, but you are excited, and you must get cool. The great question is not what you are to do, but what you are not to do,” replied Maddy, with the most stoical indifference, as it seemed to me. “There are a thousand things I am not to do.” A SCHOONER-LOAD OF ADVICE 33 r ' s:-c.__ lI In the first place, you are not to open your mouth to Milton Brooks, or any one in the house, about this business. That is the first thing you are not to do,” replied Maddy, more positively than he often spoke. “But that seems to be the only thing I can do,” I added. “It is about the only stupid thing you can do.” “But Milton Brooks and others have cheated me out of my inheritance, and you ask me to keep still about fit.” “That’s my schooner-load of advice. It doesn’t cost you anything, and you needn’t follow it if it doesn’t suit you,” continued Maddy, shrugging his shoulders again. “I am to let things run along just as they have, and allow Milton Brooks to suppose I don’t know he isn’t my father. Is that what you mean?” I asked, with some indignation. “Precisely that. Of course, you can do as you please. Do you think Mr. Brooks will own up and admit that you are the son of your father, but not his son ?” “I don’t expect anything of the kind.” “He gets five thousand a year for keeping you out of the way. Do you think he will give up this bone be- fore it is picked clean ?” 34 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN ll Of course he won’t.” “Suppose you write to Mr. Grantham, and kindly request him to tell you who your father is, and hand over the property of which he speaks in his letter. Of course you believe he is a little lamb, and will do it.” “I am not such a simpleton as to believe anything of the sort,” I protested warmly. “All right; then you will see Maldrake, and he will identify you. Then you will step into your possessions and sail a bigger yacht than the Sleeper.” “Maldrake is probably dead. No one knows any- thing about him. You are making fun of me, Maddy.” “I am only arguing my side of the question. The only way to get ahead in this business is to fight the conspirators in the dark. Hold on to what you know and add to it all the time. With the little you have learned, you are in condition to learn more.” “I see!” I exclaimed, as I got his idea. “You are right, and your schooner-load of advice has come to the right port.” “Good! I am glad to see that you are getting a lit- tle more serious. I should not live twenty-four hours in that house without knowing something more about this business, Gay.” A SCHOONER-LOAD OF ADVICE 35 GI Should you look his papers and letters over if you got the chance?” “I should ; and what is more, I should make the chance,” answered Maddy, with emphasis. “I don’t like to meddle with other peop1e’s busi- ness.” “Precisely so; and that is just my style. But this is your business. The house is kept for your benefit, and all the papers and other letters relate to you. You have been cheated out of your birthright, and it is your duty to confound those who have robbed you. The house and all that is in it are paid for out of your money. But look out for Falgood. I agree with you that she is a spy in the employ of the conspirators on the other side of the Atlantic. I have no doubt she would give you a dose of strychnine if she thought the interest of her employers required it.” We talked the matter over until Barber, the stew- ard, brought in the lunch. Maddy was as much inter- ested as though the case were his own, though he per- petrated many of his serious jokes in the course of the conversation. We were now in perfect accord as to what was to be done, and especially as to what was not to be done. We returned to the city before dark, and I Went 36 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN home. As I entered the house, it seemed to me just as though a great revolution had been accomplished. The rooms and the furniture looked different. I had certainly entered upon a new phase of life. Every- thing had assumed a new aspect. “Your father is quite sick to-night, Gay,” said Mrs. Falgood, when I went into the parlor where she spent most of her time. It was what we called the back parlor, the one on the street being opened only when we had company. On the floor above were two corresponding rooms, the front one being my father’s library or office, and the rear one his sleeping room. My room was the hall chamber over the front entry. A door connected it with the office, as Milton Brooks preferred to call it, though it was kept locked all the time. “Is he very sick, Mrs. Falgood ?” I inquired. “He complains a great deal, and has gone to bed,” answered the housekeeper, in a surly tone; and she seemed to think she had said too much to me. “I will go up and see him,” I remarked, as I moved toward the door. “Don’t go near him,” she said, almost fiercely. “I shall see him,” I repeated quietly; for Maddy had carefully schooled me in the necessity of keeping A SCHOONER-LOAD OF ADVICE 37 entirely cool, and had advised me to assert myself in the house, even if I quarreled with Mrs. F algood. lI I tell you not to go near him.” And she spoke as one having authority. I made no reply, but hastened upstairs. What a godsend it would be to this spy’s employers if Milton Brooks would only die! P. Grantham would gladly compensate her for the loss of her place as house- keeper. The event would quiet all the fears of the conspirators in England. I was still to regard Milton Brooks as my father, and I felt that it would be crim- inal to leave him to the tender mercies of such a wretch as Mrs. Falgood. I went into my room to get'my slippers. As I passed the door of the rear chamber, I heard groans, indicating that the sick man was in great pain. I put on my slippers, so that I could walk without noise, and then went out into the hall. The office door was locked as usual. Atthe rear door stood Mrs. Fal- good, ready to dispute my passage into the chamber. H You can’t go into this room,” said Mrs. Falgood, when I went out into the entry. “My father is sick, and I shall see him,” I answered, as calmly as before. “You shall not see him.” 38 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN The housekeeper was of medium stature, but she was strong and active. I walked up to the door, and easily crowded her away from it, for she evidently did not expect any physical resistance to her commands; but she had locked the door and put the key in her pocket. |- WAR IN rue HOUSE 39 CHAPTER V. WAR IN THE HOUSE. My active treatment of her opposition threw Mrs. Falgood in a violent passion. As I tried to open the door of my father’s chamber, and found it locked, she began to storm at me in the most savage manner. “My father is sick and in pain, and it seems quite proper that his son should see him,” I began, as cool as I had been all along. “I will thank you for the key of his room. “You shall not have it !” she replied firmly. “I will not make a disturbance at the door of my father’s room by taking it from you by force; but that is what we will come to if you don’t give me the key,” I replied, as I retreated to my own chamber and locked the door as I entered it. I had said enough to enable her to understand me. I had never quarreled with her or resisted her com- mands before, and no doubt she was confounded to find that the lamb had suddenly become a lion. My conduct was in accordance with Maddy’s advice. What I was doing was not so much for what I might 40 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN directly accomplish as it was to compel the woman to “unmask her batteries.” My object was to have her know that I meant to assert myself; to convince her at once that I was no longer a passive being. In a word, while my father (as I shall still call him) was ill, I desired to quarrel with her, so that she should take some decided action, which I should not fail to observe, now that my eyes had been opened. I had given her the first lesson, and I was satisfied so far as Mrs. Falgood was concerned. If Milton Brooks was the only available person who could prove my identity, and who knew my real name and connections, it would certainly be a calam- ity to have him die. Such an event would exactly suit P. Grantham & Co.; but it would not suit me. Villain as the sick man had been proved to be by the London letter, I was not willing to have him die without proper medical attention and nursing, what- ever the consequences to me personally. My decided action would soon enable me to prove whether the housekeeper was a spy or not. I intended to call in a physician and a nurse, if necessary. The new order of things had begun, for I felt sure that I should accomplish whatever I undertook, in spite of Mrs. Falgood. WAR IN THE HOUSE 41 After these demonstrations—in other words, after I had taken possession of the house—she would be likely to write a letter reporting the situation to her employers. If she wrote a letter—as I was confident she would —I intended to see the outside of it at least. But my present business was to see my father. His groans indicated that he needed active treatment. Certainly Mrs. Falgood was doing nothing for him. It was her policy to do nothing. Doubtless the woman believed that she had won a victory over me and driven me from the field by lock- ing the chamber door and taking away the key. I turned my attention to the door which opened from my room into the office, which also connected with the sick man’s chamber. just then I happened to think of the letter from London, which was still in my pocket. Maddy had insisted that it should be given to Milton Brooks. We had made two copies of it in the cabin of the Sleeper, one of which was to be kept by each of us. I had taken some interest in chemistry while I was at school, and I had a few of the implements used in illustrating the science. Among them was a blowpipe. I lighted thegas, and with the aid of the pipe, soft- ened the wax with which the letter had been sealed, 42 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN accurately adjusted the two parts of the seal, and stuck them together so that nothing but the closest exam- ination would show that it had been broken. I put the letter on the table, and again applied my- self to the problem of opening the door into the office. The house was an old-fashioned one, and the locks were not of modern construction. I had hung my handkerchief on the knob of the entry door, so that it covered the keyhole, for I knew that Mrs. Falgood had an eye that would fit any keyhole in the house. The key was in the office door, on the inside. The end of it protruded into my chamber. With a pair of gas tongs I used in fitting up my chemical appa- ratus, I readily turned it so that I could push it out of the lock on the floor. I heard it fall upon the carpet. The blowpipe was the most convenient picklock I had among my few tools. I inserted it in the lock, and working it very carefully, I finally succeeded in shov- ing the bolt of the lock. I fancied the housekeeper was at my door listening for sounds. I spent full five minutes in getting that door open without noise. I used my oil can as soon as I had swung it far enough to get at the hinges. Taking the London letter in my hand, I went into the office, and laid it on the desk. The moans of my father were more audible than before, and I concluded WAR IN THE HOUSE 43 that he was growing worse rather than better. Very carefully I crept into his chamber. I walked up to his bed. He looked very sick, and I had no doubt he was suffering from the effects of alcoholism. “How do you feel, father?” I inquired. And I could not help pitying one who was enduring such agony. “Very bad, Gay. I have got bilious colic again, and I am going to die. Can’t something be done for me ?” “Shall I do what I can for you, father ?” I asked. “Mrs. Falgood would not let me come into the room, and I had to force my way in. She doesn’t care whether you live or die, father.” “No, she doesn’t,” groaned the sick man. “I told her to get the doctor; but she would not. Do what you can, Gay.” “I shall have to fight with Mrs. Falgood if I do anything,” I added, preferring to act with his sanction. “Turn her out of the house if you like, but do what you can for me,” gasped my father. “Call in the doctor.” “You need a nurse as much as a doctor, though I will do the best I can.” “Get a nurse.” I hastened back to my chamber. I didn’t care 44 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN whether Mrs. Falgood heard me or not now. I had authority to do what I thought best. In the winter I had had a severe attack of neuralgia, so that I could not sleep nights. I went to the doctor, and he gave me half a dozen little morphine pills, of one-eighth of a grain each. I had taken only two of them, and I had the other four. I returned to the bedside with this medicine. I gave my father two of the pills, and in a few minutes he was a little better. He then insisted that I should go for the doctor at once. I locked the office door, and left the key on my side. I fastened the entry door when I Went out, and put the key in my pocket. Mrs. Falgood retreated from my door as soon as she heard me coming out. “Gay Brooks, you have been in your father’s room, contrary to my directions!” she exclaimed, as soon as she saw me. “I don’t care a straw for your directions. I Want you to understand one thing: I am master of this house while my father is sick. If you interfere with me, I will tum you out of the house, if I have to call in a policeman to do it for me. That is all I have to say at present, Mrs. Falgood,” I replied, as I rushed down the stairs as fast as my legs would carry me. ‘ WAR IN THE HOUSE 45 She followed me. “Where are you going now, Gay?” she asked, evi- dently confounded by what I had just said. “That does not concern you,” I answered, as mildly as ever. ' I took the big key and the night key from the door when I went out, so that she could not fasten the door upon me. The doctor lived in the next block. My father had had him several times before, but he al- ways went to him at his house for his ailments. I found the physician at home, and was shown into his office. He was talking with a woman, but he im- mediately gave his attention to me. I told him I wanted him to see my father without a moment’s delay. “I will see you when I return, Mrs. Castleton; and I know of a place where they want a first-class nurse,” said Doctor Webb, as he seized his hat. “If this lady is a nurse, we want her at once,” I interposed. “She is the best nurse in New York City. Come with us, Mrs. Castleton,” added the active and prompt physician. “What is the matter with your father, Gay?” . “He says it is bilious colic, and he is in very great pain, I gave him a couple of those little morphine 46 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN 77 pills you ordered for me last winter, I answered, as we hurried up the street. “Quite right, Gay.” By this time we had reached the door of our house. I applied one of the keys, and then the other. I could not open the door. I understood what this meant well enough. One of the dining-room windows in the basement was open at the top. I sprang through the opening, and in a moment more had removed the board Mrs. Falgood had placed under the lock and against the lower stair. She appeared at once to dispute the passage of the doctor and the nurse. It looked like war. When she attempted to prevent me from removing the board, I hurled her from me, and she fell upon the floor. A DECIDED VICTORY 47 CHAPTER VI. A DECIDED VICTORY. I took no further notice of the housekeeper, and al- lowed her to pick herself up in her own good time. She was boiling over with wrath and began to abuse me. The servant girl came up from the kitchen, wonder- ing what had happened. “This way, doctor; this way, Mrs. Castleton,” I said, as I led the way up the front stairs. “But what’s the meaning of all this? Was the door locked to keep me out? If I am not wanted, I don’t wish to intrude,” said Doctor Webb. “It is simply a quarrel between the housekeeper on one side and my father and myself on the other. The woman did not want my father to have a doctor. That’s all. I can’t stop to explain any more at pres- ent,” I answered, as I reached the second floor. I found the door of my father’s chamber was still locked. I conducted the physician and the nurse through my own room and the office to the apartment of the sick man. The doctor immediately ordered hot applications to 48 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN be applied to the seat of the pain. The nurse went to work without delay. Mrs. Castleton went to the kitchen with me, and I directed the servant girl to supply whatever she wanted. Mrs. Falgood was nursing her wrath in the back parlor, and did not follow me to the basement. Pos- sibly she had enough of my kind of discipline. The doctor stayed half an hour, and when he left, my father was quite comfortable. In the office the physician told me what had caused the attack, though I knew as well as he did. I asked him to tell his pa- tient the simple truth, and he promised to do so at his next visit. The doctor had hardly left the house when the doorbell rang. I had gone upstairs after parting with the doctor. I looked down the stairway and saw Mollie admit Mr. Pallingrove. The gentleman was shown to the front parlor, and the servant started to go upstairs to call me. Mrs. Falgood stopped her and went into the front parlor herself. I was rather astonished at this move on the part of the housekeeper. My father was now free from pain, though very weak and exhausted from the agonies he had suffered. I learned from him that he had been taken sick about three o’clock in the afternoon. Mrs. Falgood A DECIDED VICTORY 49 had done nothing for him beyond giving him a dose of peppermint. Everything looked so well in the sick room that I decided to go down and see Mr. Pallingrove for a few moments. When I reached a point on the stairs where I could see into the front parlor, I saw that Mr. Pallingrove and the housekeeper were engaged in what appeared to me to be a very earnest and interesting conversa- tion. I did not know that Mrs. Falgood had ever seen my gushing friend before, and they seemed to have got ahead very rapidly in their acquaintance. I stopped a moment on the stairs; but I could not hear a word of the talk between them, it was conducted in so low a tone. . But Mrs. Falgood saw me at this moment, and changed her demeanor on the instant I went into the room. The housekeeper bestowed a glance of hatred upon me and then sailed out of the parlor. Mr. Pallingrove rushed toward me, both hands ex- tended, as usual, and the sweetest of smiles on his animated face. H I am delighted to see you, my dear Gay. But I am sorry to learn from Mrs. Falgood that your father is 5o STRIVING FOR HIS OWN very sick,” said he, pressing my hands with affection- ate warmth. “He is much better now. But you seem to be well acquainted with Mrs. Falgood, Mr. Pallingrove. I was not aware that you had met before,” I continued, wishing to sound my visitor. “You didn’t know it? Why, bless you, my boy, she was my father’s housekeeper for seven years,” ex- claimed Mr. Pallingrove, with his usual enthusiasm. “Where was that ?” I asked. “Down in Maryland, where I was raised. “I didn’t know that before,” I replied quietly. “Mrs. Falgood is one of the best women that ever walked this earthly sphere. I owe my life to her, for she took care of me when I had a fever. I assure you 77 she is an angel, if there ever was one in this world. “She is quite a different woman now, for we are about to turn her out of the house, knowing her to be a very undesirable person to have in it. She would have let my father die if I had not interfered. She is more virago than angel,” I replied bluntly. “You surprise me. It is not possible that you would be willing to dispense with her services,” pro- tested Mr. Pallingrove, and he looked as though he was very much astonished. I said what I had because I thought it likely that A DECIDED VICTORY 51 the housekeeper had said something to him about me. I suspected treachery, but I could not put my finger on it. “I never had a particle of trouble with her till this afternoon, but she has always regarded me as a cipher in the family. She does not take proper care of my father,” I explained. “She is the best woman I ever knew, and I think you will make a great mistake if you allow her to leave you,” replied Mr. Pallingrove. “She is high- minded, moral, and religious, and all that sort of thing. The only fault I ever found with her was be- cause she would preach to me.” He continued for some time longer to speak in praise of Mrs. Falgood. He only left when I told him that I must go to my father’s room. He had said everything he could to induce me to retain the house- keeper. As I was coming out of the parlor, Mrs. Falgood appeared again in the hall. She invited Mr. Pallingrove into the back parlor. I did not quite like this action, and I concluded not to go upstairs, as my father was doing very well under the care of Mrs. Castleton. Mrs. Falgood looked daggers at me as I entered the room. “By the way, Charley, I think you said you were 52 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN born and brought up in Hagerstown, in Maryland?” I began, as I seated myself. “That’s what I said. Mrs. Falgood can tell you all about the place,” he replied, with refreshing prompt- ness. He had not said anything of the kind. I had merely mentioned the first town outside of Baltimore that came to my mind. He had been amusing me with falsehoods, and making lies out of whole cloth. The housekeeper had come from England three years be- fore, according to her own statements, and I had met her on board of the steamer on her arrival. To Pallingrove’s appeal Mrs. Falgood replied that she had lived at Hagerstown, but she was not very well acquainted there, and had forgotten about it, for she had gone from Hagerstown to England. She saw the trap into which Pallingrove had led her, and she had the tact to crawl out of it. But I was satisfied, and I knew that I had made another point against the conspirators. I flattered myself that I was not the green boy for whom Mr. Pallingrove had taken me. His sickness at the opera house, his frequent visits to our house, without a particle of encouragement, his gushing and devotion to me were all explained. Charley Pallingrove was another spy. A DECIDED VICTORY 53 “How is your father now, my dear Gay?” asked Mr. Pallingrove. The question was to remind me that I ought to go upstairs and attend to him. “He is quite comfortable. He has an excellent nurse, and is doing very well,” I replied, as though I had just come from his chamber. “I am very glad to hear it. But I think you have not seen him for half an hour or more,” he added, with one of his most taking smiles. “I really cannot leave you until I have heard the latest news from him. You have all my sympathy, and I don’t believe I shall sleep a wink to-night for thinking of you.” This was very considerate of him, but he had some- thing more to say to Mrs. Falgood. He could not help seeing that the arrangements of the conspirators had been knocked out of gear by Mrs. Falgood, who had overdone her part. I thought I knew just what he wanted to say to her. He wished to tell her that she had gone too far, and that she must conciliate me, in order to retain her place in the house. I was so confident I was right that I decided to go up and obtain the latest news in regard to my father. When I went into the room, Mrs. Castleton said he was asleep. He was under the influence of mor- 54 , STRIVING FOR HIS OWN phine, but he had been entirely relieved from pain, and his repose was as quiet as that of a child. The doctor and the nurse had performed a miracle, for my father would certainly have died if he had not obtained relief. Doctor Webb said as much to me the next day. I went into the office, for I wished to give Pallin- grove time to instruct Mrs. Falgood in regard to her future course. I knew what that course was to be. The housekeeper was to remain at any sacrifice of her own will a'nd inclination. I was sure she would come to me with a humble apology as soon as she had the opportunity. I seated myself in the office. I was undecided as to my future conduct in regard to the housekeeper. I was considering the subject, when I saw that the key of my father’s desk was in the lock. He had evidently been overcome by pain, and had not secured his papers with his usual care. I raised the lid, and saw a bundle of letters, which had evidently been hastily thrown into the desk. I took out the package. The letters were still in their envelopes, and were all directed in the same handwrit- ing as the one I had opened that day by accident. I determined to examine these letters at my leisure. I took them to my room, and locked them up in a drawer of my bureau. FOR FURTHER INFORMATION 55 2' CHAPTER VII. FOR FURTHER INFORMATION. I put the key of the desk in my pocket, so that I could return the letters when I had done with them, and so that 'Mrs. Falgood might not suspect anything from the fact that the key was in the lock. I heard the supper bell ring, and I started to go down stairs. The housekeeper heard my approach, and Pallingrove came out into the'hall. “How is he, my dear fellow? I tremble while I ask the question,” said the visitor, looking at me with anxious interest. “He is asleep, and he will get along now, without any doubt,” I replied. “I am exceedingly glad to hear it. You have lifted a load of anxiety from my mind.” “My father will be all right in a few days, though he is very weak.” “Thank Heaven!” exclaimed Pallingrove, as he moved toward the door. “By the way, my dear Gay, you must excuse me for meddling with what is none of my business, but I want to say a word more to you 56 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN about Mrs. Falgood, whom I look upon as an excel- lent woman.” None of his business! I had no doubt he was hand- somely paid to reside in New York and do the very business he apologized for doing. “What you said about Mrs. Falgood surprised me so greatly that I spoke to her about her conduct. She is our old housekeeper and nurse, you know, and we were always quite familiar. I take the liberty of say- ing anything I please to her.” “So do I, though I only began to do so to-day,” I replied. 4 “Quite right, and the good soul doesn’t blame you a particle for what you have said and done. Pardon me for meddling, but you were a little too hasty, my dear Gay, with this lady, and that has caused all the trouble. She thought your father was asleep, and she did not wish you to disturb him.” “Does she think a man sleeps when he is groaning and howling with pain ?” I demanded. “She thought so, at any rate. Your answer excited her anger, and you may blame yourself for all that happened after that. But she was doubly wrong to get angry and attempt to oppose you by force. She sees it herself now, and she is willing to make an FOR FURTHER INFORMATION 57 ample apology, and to regard your wishes as com- mands in the future. She will say so to you herself.” I had no doubt she would. Pallingrove continued to extol Mrs. Falgood, and pleaded to have me try her once more. I made no promises, and permitted him to depart, though he did his best to induce me to commit myself in her favor. I went down to supper. As I seated myself at the table, Mrs. Falgood made the most abject apology. She had no will of her own; she would obey me as a child. In fact, she overdid the apology business as badly as she had her opposition to me. if I have always regarded you as a child, and I hope you will forgive me for not realizing that you are now almost a man,” she continued. H So far as I am concerned, I freely forgive you. I bear no malice,” I replied; and I could not say less after so humble an apology. “I interfered only for my father’s sake. He was sick,' very sick, and you were doing nothing for him.” “I had done all that I thought was necessary. You spoke to me about his failing. I supposed he had drunk too much, and would get over it in a few hours. It is generally best to let him alone at such times,” she explained. 58 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “But he would have died if he had not obtained re- lief.” “Perhaps I mistook the case. At any rate, I did what I thought was best. There is no occasion for the nurse you have called in.” “The nurse must remain for the present,” I said. And I saw that she had a good deal of feeling in regard to her. “Very well,” she replied, biting her lips. Mrs. F algood was very attentive to me at the table, and seemed to be trying to play the part of the angel Pallingrove said she was. I told her that my father must settle the whole busi- ness as soon as he was able to consider it. I left the table in something of a hurry, for I had to make two appearances at an entertainment that evening. I received a weekly salary, but my engagement ter- minated on Saturday. I had decided not to renew it. When I went upstairs, I found that my father was stillbsleeping. Mrs. Falgood brought the key and opened the door in the entry. She was polite, but very stiff with Mrs. Castleton, and stayed with the patient while she went down to supper. I went out, as usual, without saying anything to the housekeeper; but I returned before eleven o’clock. Mrs. Falgood had retired, and the nurse was still on '. ., FOR FURTHER INFORMATION 59 duty. I told her to call me if my father waked and was in condition to see me. I went to my room, but not to my bed. I locked the door and took out the bundle of letters. I covered the keyhole of the door and proceeded to examine the documents. I was very much agitated, for I expected to find something that would inform me who and what I was. The letters were all signed by P. Grantham, and were all in the same handwriting as the one I had read on board of the Sleeper. Most of them had con- tained bills of exchange for five hundred pounds. This was the half-yearly payment to Milton Brooks for keeping me out of the way. In one of the oldest letters I found this sentence: . “Address P. Grantham, 19 Little Queen Street.” This was all I found in twenty letters that was of the least use to me. There was no allusion in any of them to any person which would afford me a clue to the employers of P. Grantham. I was terribly disap- pointed at the result of my examination. But it was stupid for me to expect to find anything. If the con- spirators were living on my property, they would not be likely to give any hint of their identity. I should not have expected to find anything if Mr. P. Gran- 60 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN tham had not been so inexpressibly foolish as to write the letter that had opened my eyes. But I had the address of P. Grantham in London, and that was something to start upon. There was no allusion to Maldrake. The letter I had accidentally opened was evidently the only one relating to the demand of Milton Brooks for fifty thousand pounds. At the end of the two latest letters in the package, I found the warning which Mr. Grantham had repeated in the letter received that day. I tied up the package of letters just as I had found them and returned them to the desk. I looked over the other papers it contained; but there was nothing that could be of service to me. I knew of no other place where my father kept any papers, and I won- dered why he had preserved all these letters. I went to bed and slept till seven in the morning, when a knock at my door awoke me. It was the nurse. She told me her patient had asked her for some brandy, and she was afraid to give it to him without the doctor’s consent. I hastened into the chamber. My father looked as though he had been sick fora month, and was very pale and shaky. He must have some brandy, he said, and I took FOR FURTHER INFORMATION 61 K the responsibility of giving it to him. Of course, his nerves were very much disordered by hard drinking, and I knew that liquor was almost the only thing that would quiet him. My father spoke to me in German. He asked me then about Mrs. Falgood. I told him about my several encounters with her; that she had refused to let me see him, and had barred the door against me when I came with the doctor and the nurse. “She did nothing for me, and I believe she meant to let me die,” said my father, looking me closely in the face. “I think you are right, father; she meant to let you die without assistance,” I added; for I thought it was better that his eyes should be opened in regard to the woman. “How did you get into my room, if she locked the door?” he asked, deeply interested. I explained in what manner I had opened the door into the ofiice. My father praised me for what I had done. In spite of the warnings given him, I don’t think he suspected that she was a spy upon him. “Discharge her! Send her off at once!” said he angrily. 62 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER VIII. A SMALL FIRE. , I told my father all that had happened in the house since my return from the trip in the Sleeper, including the apology of Mrs. Falgood. “No matter for the apology! Discharge her at once. Pay her wages to the end of the month—twenty dol- lars. Take the money from my pocket.” I did as he told me, and I dropped the key of his desk into his pocket when I took out his wallet. I counted out the sum he had mentioned. “The postman brought a letter for you yesterday,” I added, “and I laid it on your desk.” “Bring it to me.” I brought the letter I had read, and handed it to him. “Shall I open it for you, father?” I asked, as I picked it up from the bed, where he had laid it. = Without waiting for the permission, I snapped the seal and threw open the flap. ' “No! Give it to me at once! You know that I never allow any one to read my letters, he interposed sharply. A SMALL FIRE 63 I handed it back to him, but I had prevented him from seeing that the seal had been broken before. That was all I wanted, and I was satisfied. He asked for his spectacles, and read the letter. The contents seemed to disturb him. He tore the let- ter and the envelope into a thousand pieces, and then cast them upon the floor. “Discharge that woman at once,” said he vigor- ously, for a sick man, and turned over in the bed so that his back was toward me. I left the room. As I went down the stairs Mrs. Falgood came out of the back parlor. “How is your father this morning, Gay?” she asked, as though it were a vital question with her; and per- haps it was. “He slept all night, and is quite comfortable this morning. Here is something for you, Mrs. Falgood,” I replied, handing her the money I had taken from my father’s wallet. “What is this for?” she asked, as she took the bills. “It is your wages till the end of the month. My father directed me to discharge you at once.” “Discharge me! Does your father say that, Gay?’ she demanded, starting back with proper dramatic effect. 64 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “My father said that, and said it very earnestly,” I added. “I thought my apology would satisfy you, and you said as much as that,” she replied, biting her lips, as she always did when vexed or angry. “It was quite sufficient, so far as I was concerned, and I cheerfully accepted it.” “I must see your father.” “Not without his consent.” “I do not believe that your father ordered my dis- charge,” she continued. “I must have it from his own mouth. He sent to England for me, and he would not dismiss me.” “I will tell him what you say, and if he is willing to see you, of course, I shall not object.” I went up and told my father what had passed, and he consented to see Mrs. Falgood for a few minutes. I went up with her. “I discharge you, Mrs. Falgood, and I want you to go at once,” said my father, with all the energy he could command in his feeble state. “You intended to let me die yesterday, and I don’t want to see your face again.” Very mildly, for her, she went over the same expla- nation she had made to me. It did not satisfy my father any more than it had satisfied me. I § A SMALL FIRE 65 “I won’t live in my own house and call in vain for help when I am sick, or have my son locked out of my room. I don’t want you. Leave my house at once.” “I have no place to go to in the whole country,” she pleaded. l “But you have money to pay for a place. If you are not satisfied, I will pay your passage back to Eng- land.” “But you will allow me to stay in the house until the steamer of next Wednesday sails ?” she asked, wip- ing the tears from her eyes; but they were manufac- tured for the occasion. “Stay, if you like, but don’t let me see you here again,” replied my father impatiently. “No more, if you please, Mrs. Falgood,” I inter- posed. I opened the door, and she went out. “I did not expect such treatment as this,” said she, when I had closed the door behind her, still wiping away her tears. “I came from England to act as your father’s housekeeper, and now he tums me out of his house.” “I think you gave him abundant provocation for doing so. But I have nothing more to say about it. I will get your ticket for the next steamer, if you wish,” I answered. A SMALL FIRE 67 down the stairs,‘ I saw that she was just directing one, and two others lay upon the table in front of her. Be- fore I could reach the foot of the stairs, I heard Mollie scream loudly in the basement hall. I quickened my pace. “The house is on fire!” yelled the girl, in mortal terror. Before I could get to the basement stairs, Mrs. Fal- good had darted down them. It flashed upon my mind that Mrs. Falgood had kindled the fire. I fol- lowed her down the steps, nearly upsetting her in my rapid movements. I found a basket of shavings in the furnace room in a light blaze. I kicked it over and trampled out the fire. I acquitted the discharged housekeeper of the charge in my mind. Mollie said she had lighted a match to enable her to find a dustpan she had left in the furnace room. She had thrown it on the brick floor. This explained the fire. I thought my father might be alarmed in his heI'p- less condition, and I hastened upstairs to assure him there was no further danger, leaving Mrs. Falgood talking with Mollie in regard to the fire. Mrs. Castleton was coming down to ascertain the 4 68 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN cause of the alarm. As I told her about the matter, I walked into the back parlor. On the table were three letters Mrs. Falgood had written. One, which was sealed with wax, was di- rected to Mr. P. Grantham, 19 Little Queen Street, W. C. ; another to a lady, Mrs. Harriet Shrimp, Mid- ford, Somerset, England, and the third to Mr. john Tremble, Brevoort House, New York. I fixed the last two addresses in my mind. I heard Mrs. Falgood coming up the stairs, and I followed Mrs. Castleton to my father’s chamber. I was talking all the time, as though I was excited by the fire, as, indeed, I had been. “Mollie was careless to throw a match on the pave- ment near a basket of shavings; but there was no woodwork near it, and it could not possibly have set the house on fire,” I said, as I passed Mrs. Falgood. She was moving in a hurry, as though she had just thought of the letters she had left on the table. My belief that she was a spy in the employ of the con- spirators in England was now fully confirmed. I had been satisfied before; now I was absolutely sure. Before I went to my father’s chamber, I visited my own, and wrote down the addresses I had read upon the spy’s letters. I felt that I was getting ahead bravely. I had the address of P. Grantham and Mrs. '\ \ A SMALL FIRE 69 Shrimp, whoever these persons might prove to be. The former did the business with my father, and the other was doubtless some connection of Mrs. Falgood. Through either of these persons I could probably trace out something that would give me a clue to the conspiracy. Both of them were in England; but I had talked so much about England with my father that I thought I should feel quite at home there. Be- sides, I was born there, though I could never ascer- tain the name of the town in which I had first drawn the breath of life. , . It seemed to me, as I looked at the addresses I had written, that my business was in England about this time. Who was Mr. john Tremble, the New York correspondent of Mrs. Falgood? The Brevoort House was a first-class establishment. Professor De Mar- chena had taken me there once to see a distinguished Italian, and as I looked over the register, I had seen the names of a good many guests hailing from Lon- don and other parts of England. john Tremble must be a person of-some standing and means, or he would not make his home at the Brevoort House. My first business was to learn something about Mr. john Tremble, and I hastened to the Brevoort House, on Fifth Avenue. 7o STRIVING FOR HIS OWN I looked into the reading room of the hotel, where I saw Mr. Pallingrove reading the London Times. I withdrew at once, for I did not care to meet him. He was the only person in the room at the time. I spent half an hour in looking over the register. Several weeks back I found the name of “john Trem- ble, London,” but I could not find the signature of Charles Pallingrove. “Is Mr. john Tremble, of London, in?” I inquired of the clerk. _ “Yes, sir; I saw him in the reading room a minute ago,” replied the clerk. “He is theonly person there.” “But he is not the person I desire to see. I had some doubts about the address,” I stammered. “Mr. Tremble was the only person in the room a minute ago, and if you don’t know him by sight, you can’t make any mistake,” replied the clerk, with pro- fessional indifference. “He is not the gentleman I wish to see, and I have made a mistake.” The clerk took no further notice of me, and I re- treated from the house. Mr. Tremble’s case was settled. Pallingrove was a fiction. PREPARATIONS FOR THE CRUISE 71 CHAPTER IX. PREPARATIONS FOR THE CRUISE. Mrs. Falgood and Charley Pallingrove were the spies employed to watch my father and me. I thought, I had done wonderfully well in discovering both of them in less than twenty-four hours. But I should never have suspected that I was not the son of Milton Brooks if I had not accidentally opened that letter. Without that I should not have known anything about any spies. I did not, therefore, consider myself en- titled to much credit for my penetration. My father gave me the money to pay Mrs. Falgood’s passage to England, and I handed it to her. She went out to mail her letters before I left; but I found her in the house when I returned. Letters came to her from England, and I had no doubt she was fully posted in regard to all the trans- actions between the London agent and my father. By this time she had heard of the demand for fifty thousand pounds. This may have caused her to feel that my father had lived long enough, and bilious colic might do what it was not safe for her or her associate in the city to do. 72 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN Doctor Webb was leaving the house as I came in, after my visit to the Brevoort House. He told me he had talked to my father about his drinking habits, and warned him that he was not likely to live long unless he renounced them. This he had promised to do, and that very day, all the bottles were removed from his apartments with his consent and locked up in the din- ing room. The patient said Mrs. Falgood had encouraged him to drink brandy, and had always brought it to him in liberal doses when he was ailing. just before noon, Maddy Fayrthorne called upon me. I took him to my room, where we could not be overheard, and told him all that had happened since we parted. He rubbed his hands with delight as he lis- tened to the conclusion of the whole story. “You are a Napoleon, Gay!" exclaimed he. “You have done wonders for one day.” “But I have got about as far as I can go, Maddy,” I replied. “I have found out all there is to know on this side of the ocean. I am ready now for the cruise in the Sleeper across the Atlantic. I have business in England.” “You seem to forget that the man you call your father knows all about the conspiracy, and is one of PREPARATIONS FOR THE CRUISE 73 the conspirators,” said Maddy. “He could set you 77 right in five minutes if he were so disposed. “Of course he knows all about it; but what could he do if he were willing to do anything?” I asked, deeply interested in the suggestion of my friend. “Grantham says ‘the boy’ can never get possession of the property.” Of course he would say that to Milton Brooks; but it is nothing but bluff. Why can’t he obtain pos- session if the property belongs to him ?” argued Maddy. . “Because we cannot prdcure the evidence to estab- lish my identity as the heir of the unknown estate,” I replied, for I had gone over all this ground before. “The testimony of Milton Brooks, even if he were will- ing to take sides with me, would not be accepted as conclusive. Who knows Milton Brooks in England now, after he has been in this country seventeen years?” “I rather think you are right, Gay. Milton Brooks would be your only witness.” “He could bring forward all the letters of P. Gran- tham to prove that he received a remittance from him every six months.” “Very likely the name of P. Grantham is a fiction, PREPARATIONS FOR THE CRUISE 75 ward the front door, dressed for the street. In a mo- ment I heard the door close behind her. “There is work for me. I must follow her,” I said, rising from my chair. “But I wanted you to take a trip in the Sleeper this afternoon,” said Maddy. “If I am not on board by three o’clock I can’t go,” I replied. “I will wait till that time for you.” “By the way, you have never asked Pallingrove to sail with you, Maddy ?” I continued. “I should as soon think of taking a blackleg or a known thief on board of the yacht,” he answered. “Suppose, in doing the business in hand, I should bring him on board with me?” I suggested. “That’s another thing. Bring him any time when it will help your cause along,” replied Maddy. By this time we were in the street, for I did not mean to lose sight of Mrs. Falgood. Maddy had fol- lowed me, and had got on the track of the spy. She finally reached the Bowery and walked to Canal Street, where she took a crosstown car. Maddy and I occu- pied the front platform of the one next behind. At Wooster Street she got out, and took a University Place car. 76 srmvmo FOR ms own “That settles it,” said I, as we left our car. “She is going to the Brevoort House to see John Tremble, 77 alias Pallingrove. “Let us be sure of it,” rejoined Maddy, as he jumped upon the next car. Mrs. F algood went to the Brevoort House, as I was confident she would. H It will be useless to follow her any more. She is going to tell john Tremble that she has been dis- charged, if she did not tell him in her letter,” I said, when our mission in this direction was ended. “That is so, Gay. We can take a run in the yacht now. All we have to do is to make our preparation for the voyage over the ocean, ’ replied Maddy. We ran down to the Narrows, and returned early. That evening I closed my engagement as a singer and mimic. I saw little of Mrs. Falgood; in fact, I did not care what she did. I had cautioned Mrs. Castle- ton. to look out for her, for she was a very wicked woman. My father continued to improve, and on Sunday he went into his office. On Monday Mrs. Falgood left the house, “bag and baggage,” without the formality of bidding any one good-by. I did not believe that she intended to take the steamer to England. Doubtless Mr. Tremble had PREPARATIONS FOR THE CRUISE 77 told her what to do. I followed the carriage that bore her away, and it left her at the Brevoort House. My father gained every day; but as he grew better, he took less notice of me; in fact, he became as he was before he was sick. Why he changed his manner I have no means of knowing. One day I told him I was going off on a yachting trip with Maddy Fayrthorne. He made no objection, or even a reply of any kind. When he was able to go down to his meals in about a week, he talked with the new housekeeper, but said not a word to me. Maddy made all his preparations for his voyage. I talked with Mrs. Castleton about a yachting excursion, and thought we might be gone four months, perhaps longer. We had been off for two months the year before. She declared that there was nothing to keep me at home; she could manage my father without my assist- ance. He had improved so much that he rode out every day, and_really seemed to be enjoying life. On the last day of May I put all my clothes and val- uables on board of the Sleeper, and drew my money from the bank. I was ready for a start. I said good-by to my father early the next morning. 78 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN He took my offered hand, though rather reluctantly. By nine in the forenoon I was on board. Since the exciting events attending the discharge of Mrs. Falgood I had not spoken to Pallingrove, as I shall still call him, because he called himself by this name. CAPTAIN MADDY FAYRTHORNE ,, CHAPTER X. CAPTAIN MADDY FAYRTHORNE. Maddy Fayrthorne had fully explained his plan for a European cruise in the Sleeper to his father and mother. As may well be supposed, they objected to it most strenuously. But the son insisted, and he was finally persuaded to wait a week before his parents gave him a definite answer. . He had the grace to say that he should not go if they did not consent. Maddy was an only son, and, of course, his father and mother had done the best they could to spoil him. The boy had the reputation of being an “odd stick." Perhaps this was the reason why his parents miracu- lously failed to spoil him. At the age of twelve Maddy was in poor health, and this was an additional incentive for spoiling him. He was not fond of society, and had a taste for books. At fourteen he was quite feeble, and a great many anxious consultations between the parents and the family physician were had. The doctor studied the case very faithfully, and 8o STRIVING FOR HIS OWN finally ordered the parents to take up their residence on the south coast of Long Island. Maddy was to be provided with such boats as he wanted. This treatment made a new man‘of the patient. The boating pleased him, and for four years he had followed it all summer in the North, and all winter in the South. At eighteen he was as tough and rugged as the son of a Vermont farmer. The physician’s prescriptions had been entirely successful, and his mother thought there was more danger of his being drowned at sea than of dying of disease. From a rowboat he had goneto a sailboat, and then to a yacht of larger size. He wanted a new one every year, of increased tonnage, until the Sleeper was built for him the season before he projected his trip across the Atlantic. He had taken her to Florida the fall previous, and returned in the spring. The builder of the schooner had been ordered to spare no expense upon the craft. He was to provide first for safety, second for comfort, and third for speed. Probably the skillful builder followed his in- structions, though he appeared to have got the speed in first, while the vessel was not lacking in the other qualities, as Maddy had fully proved by actual trial. As Maddy was an “odd stick,” he would not join CAPTAIN MADDY FAYRTHORNE 81 any yacht club, or take part in any regatta. With no intention of racing, he had passed some of the fastest yachts in the New York waters, and beaten them in a run to windward. Four years had accustomed Mrs. Fayrthorne to her son’s yacht cruises, but when the youth intimated that he should like to sail in a yacht of a hundred tons, old measurement, the devoted mother had many doubts and anxieties. She talked with her husband about the matter. The result of these consultations was that General Fayrthorne told his son that he would give him the yacht if he would allow him to appoint his mate. After some discussion, Maddy consented to the prop- osition, and. the yacht was built. The father ap- pointed a Mr. Waxall as mate, and his nominal pay on the ship’s books was one hundred dollars a month. General Fayrthorne paid him twice as much more. Captain Waxall had commanded steamships, India- men and Liverpool liners. He had sailed in the em- ploy of the general’s brother for twenty years, though Maddy had never seen or heard of him till he was pre- sented to him as the mate of the Sleeper. He readily consented to drop his title as captain and become “Mr. Waxall” for the salary the millionaire was willing to pay him. CAPTAIN MADDY FAYRTI-IORNE 83 Waxall never gave even a hint that he was any wiser than the rest of the ship’s company. Maddy and I had been pupils together at a cele- brated private school. With no event or obligation on the part of either to give it birth, a very strong friendship had grown up between us. I had sailed with him a great deal before the Sleeper was built, and I became as competent to sail a yacht as he was. His father remained at his house in the city till july. VVe had spent two months on the coast of Maine the year before in the Sleeper. I did not go to Flor- ida in her, for I could not leave my professional en- gagements. On her return from the South, the second mate left her, and I was appointed in his place at the same wages. At sea I had the captain’s watch. When I went on board of the Sleeper, hauled up at the pier, I saw the hands bringing fresh meat out of the vessel and putting it in a wagon. This looked very strange to me. Mr. Waxall was on deck, and I walked up to him. “Good morning, Mr. Brooks,” said he. “It appears that we don’t sail to-day, after all.” “We don’t sail to-day !” I exclaimed. “Captain Fayrthorne was taken sick yesterday. He is not very ill; but his mother did not like to have him 84 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN sail when he was not well,” explained the mate. “He directed me to send the fresh meats back to the butcher. I had a note from him, and there is another for you on the cabin table.” “I hope the captain is not going to be sick,” I re- plied, as I walked toward the companionway. “A gentleman called to see you yesterday. Mr.—I forget his name; but I put his card on the cabin table,” continued Mr. Waxall. “He asked me a great many questions as to where we were bound, for we were taking in stores at the ime. Captain Fayrthorne has not informed me where we were bound, and I could not tell him.” “You don’t remember his name?” “It was an odd name, and I have forgotten it. He was on board over an hour, and I saw that he was trying to pump the crew as to our destination; but as they are no wiser than I am, he could not get anything out of them. But he was very anxious to see you.” Who could it be? I hastened to the cabin to solve the question. “Charles Pallingrove” was the name on an engraved card. I threw it upon the table in disgust, and turned my attention to the note of Maddy. The spy wanted to know where I was going in the yacht. Maddy would have called his note one of his serious CAPTAIN MADDY FAYRTHORNE 85 efforts, for it was full of fun. He had “eaten too much French cookery,” he said, and his stomach had been turning somersaults. His mother would not let him go unless he was entirely well. He thought he should be in a salubrious condition by the next Wednesday. It was Monday morning, and I had not long to wait. I decided to remain on board the yacht. I did not think my father wanted to see me, though I intended to call at the house every day. I went on deck and joined Mr. Waxall. “The gentleman who called was Mr. Pallingrove,” I informed him. “Pallingrove! That was it,” replied the mate. “He is a friend of yours, I suppose ?” “Hardly a friend,” I answered. “He had more curiosity to the square inch than any other man I ever met. He wanted to look the yacht over, and I showed her to him, as he had mentioned your name.” “In future you need not bestow any attentions upon him on my account. He forced himself upon me, and I dislike him exceedingly.” “All right, Mr. Brooks. But there he comes again,” replied the mate, laughing. I was not at all surprised to see him. He was paid 86 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN for keeping watch of my father and me, and he seemed disposed to earn his money. But he had kept away from me for three weeks, since Mrs. Falgood left our house. Very likely he had dogged my steps since that time. Pallingrove came on deck with both hands extended and a flood of smiles on his face. MR. PALLINGROVE’S VISIT 87 CHAPTER XI. MR. 1>AL1.1NcRov1~:’s vrsrr. “I am delighted to see you, my dear Gay!” ex- claimed Pallingrove, as he rushed upon me in the waist of the Sleeper. “I have been looking for you every day for three weeks.” “Have you, indeed?” I replied, wondering how he could have the face to indulge in such needless lies. “I have called at the house, but you were never at home,” he continued, still pressing my hands. “I asked for Mrs. Falgood, and was told that she was not in the house.” “How many times do you think you have called at the house?” I asked. But I felt as though I was tempting him to tell needless falsehoods. “Perhaps twenty times, but certainly not less than a dozen,” he answered, as promptly as though he had been telling the truth. “Who went to the door when you called ?” “Sometimes the servant girl, and sometimes a woman who was a stranger to me. I always inquired for Mrs. F algood, but was simply told she was not in the house. They couldn’t tell where she was. H 88 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN H 7 7; It s very odd, I remarked, for the sake of saying something. “Very odd, indeed. Yesterday I had a bright thought, and was astonished that it had not come to my mind before. After a deal of inquiry I found that Mr. Fayrthorne’s yacht was at the foot of Rivington Street. I came here and got track of you. I learned from one of the hands that the yacht was to sail on a cruise to-day.” “Captain Fayrthome is sick, and we don’t go to- day," I said. “Where are you going, my dear Gay?” “On a cruise.” “That’s rather indefinite.” “Yacht cruises are always rather indefinite.” “But yachtsmen usually have some idea where they are bound,” persisted Pallingrove. “The owner has some idea of his destination, and for any further information I shall have to refer you to Captain Fayrthorne,” I answered. “Last year we cruised for two months on the coast of Maine, but the captain had no idea where he was going when we left New York harbor.” “But there was a ton of fresh beef and mutton put on board of this yacht early this morning,” said Pal- lingrove. MR. PALLINGROVE’S VISIT 39 “Did you weigh it?” I asked lightly; but I saw that he had been watching the yacht for some days, if not for weeks. “I reckon there was a ton, for I came down to see you early this morning when they were putting it on board.” “I don’t know how much there was; and, if you de- sire to know, I will introduce you to Barber, the stew- ard.” “Of course I don’t care how much meat you took in. It is not my affair, you know.” “I thought it was from the interest you seem to have in the matter.” “I haven’t a bit of interest in it, and I was only thinking of it in connection with the fact that not even the captain of the yacht knows where she is bound,” he responded; and he was always ready with an ex- planation more or less plausible. “I will tell you about that in confidence, Charley, for the skipper does not allow us to talk out loud about the affairs of the yacht, even when we know anything about them,” I continued. “I have heard you say that young Mr. Fayrthorne was a very singular person, and as odd as a boot with- out a mate. But you may trust me to keep anything you may tell me to myself. I am not a leaky vessel.” 9o STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “Be sure that you don’t mention it, for it would make the skipper very angry.” “Not a word, my dear Gay! I would rather die than betray a friend by telling his secrets,” replied Pal- lingrove. “You may tell me where you are going without the least fear of its getting out.” “I was speaking of the ton of beef and mutton,” I replied. “Last year, on the coast of Maine, we had a great deal of difficulty in getting good beef and mut- ton. The skipper is very particular, and can eat only meats of the finest quality. For this reason he had a very large refrigerator built in the vessel. We can keep fresh meats in it for three months. That explains the ton of beef and mutton, doesn’t it ?” “Quite clearly, but it doesn’t suggest where the yacht is bound,” he replied, with manifest disappoint- ment. “She is bound on a cruise. After we have been out three days, the skipper may take a notion to re- turn. Last year we went from port to port without knowing one day where we should go the next. There is no knowing where Captain Fayrthorne is going, or even if he is going anywhere.” . “But this is a magnificent yacht,” he continued, sud- denly brightening up, as though he felt that he had displayed too much anxiety in regard to the destina- MR. PALLINGROVE’S VISIT 91 tion of the yacht. “She is quite a large affair, too, and I dare say she is big enough to cross the Atlantic.” “I think I should prefer to go over the ocean in a larger vessel,” I answered, with as much indifference as I could assume when I saw what was in his mind. He feared that I might turn up in England, and present myself where I should be a most unwelcome visitor, It was simply impossible for him or Mrs. Fal- good to know that I had obtained any information in regard to my birthright. They might suspect that my father, after the rejection of his unreasonable demand upon Mr. P. Grantham, had told me something I ought not to know, from their point of view. It seemed to me that Pallingrove was doing some- thing more than merely taking precautions against a possibility. He was acting as though I was fully informed in regard to my rights. “Do you know, my dear Gay, that I am passion- ately fond of yachting? I don’t know that it can be broughtabout, but Ishould like to pay half the run- ning expenses of the yacht for the privilege of going with you on this cruise. Yachting would be half the pleasure to me, and your society the other half.” “The expense is no sort of consequence to Captain Fayrthorne, and dividing it would be no object what- ever to him,” I replied. 92 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “Don’t you think you could persuade him to take me with you in any capacity you please?” he asked, with evident interest. “I am confident I could not. He would not take the President of the United States on board for the cruise, even if he went down on his knees and begged for the privilege. The skipper is an odd young man.” “I am not willing to give up the idea, it has taken such a strong hold upon me; but, as you are not going for a day or two, I will drop the matter for the pres- ent,” he continued. And it was clear that he had something else in his mind. “I know the skipper so well that I don’t think it will be of any use for you to press the point,” I replied. “By the way, did I tell you that I had taken apart- ments near you ?” continued Pallingrove, abruptly changing the subject. “I was walking up the street a few days ago, after I had called at your house, and happened to see a paper in a window relating to fur- nished rooms. I went in, and they suited me so well that I engaged them on the spot. The house is nearly opposite yours,” he went on to say. “I hope I shall see you every day now.” “I shall be away for a few weeks, unless the skip- per takes it in his head to return,” I replied MR. PALLINGROVE’S VISIT 93 “Well, if I cannot manage to go with you, I shall see you on your return. Now, can you tell me what has become of Mrs. Falgood, or how she happens to be out every time I call at the house ?” ' “My father discharged her, and she left the house three weeks ago. She received a hundred dollars to pay her passage to England, and I suppose she sailed the Wednesday after she left.” Pallingrove knew where she was better than I did, but I did not believe she had left the country. I was confident that he had not called at my father’s house more than once, if at all. The representative of P. Grantham closed the busi- ness of the interview by inviting me to “take a spin” with him in the park that afternoon. I declined the invitation on the plea of wishing to spend the after- noon with Maddy. Very reluctantly, as it seemed to me, he left the yacht, not much wiser than when he came on board. There was nothing for me to do on board the Sleeper, and, after I had arranged my things in my stateroom, I went up to see Maddy. He was comfortably sick, and had improved greatly since the night before. I told him what had passed between Pallingrove and me. “I should prefer to have half a dozen smallpox pa- 94 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN tients in the cabin with me than that Pallingrove," he replied, with energy. “I despised him from the first moment I saw him.” “I told him squarely that it was not possible for him to go -with us, but he has not given up the idea. Where I am he is bound to be, if he can.” Maddy was confident that he should be out the next day, and be ready to sail on Wednesday. I left him, and intended to return to our house. As I approached it, I saw our Mollie come out of a house on the oppo- site side of the street. She came out at the front door, which led me to conclude that she was not on a visit to the servant. A STOWAWAY ON THE “SLEEPER’ 95 CHAPTER XII. A STOWAWAY ON THE “SLEEPER.” I crossed the street to make a closer examination of the house out of which Mollie had just come, though I waited till she had disappeared. The number on the door indicated that it was the one at which Pallingrove had engaged furnished apart- ments. I concluded that Mollie had been bribed. She was a very intelligent English girl, who had been en- gaged by Mrs. Falgood. It looked as though Mollie was to report everything that occurred in the house to Pallingrove. I was highly indignant at the discovery of the rami- fications of the spy system which had been woven around my father°and myself. I was wiser than the conspirators could possibly suspect, and that rendered it all harmless. But it was not prudent to have a per- son in the house who was in the employ of the enemy. It was not after any cool reasoning that I went up to the door of the house that contained furnished apart- ments to let. It was an impulse, and I determined to see Pallingrove, even if I had to take “the spin” with him in the park as an excuse for my visit. I rang the 96 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN bell before I had fairly considered the step I was about to take. “Does Mr. Charles Pallingrove live here ?” I asked of the woman who came to the door, and who appeared to be the landlady. “He has rooms here. He is on the second floor, front room. You can walk right up, for he came in a few minutes ago,” she replied, pointing to the location of the furnished apartments the spy had taken. I ascended the stairs, and approached the door of the front room. The sound of voices attracted my attention, and I saw that the door of Pallingrove’s room was ajar. He evidently had company, and I did not care to be introduced to any of his friends. I rec- ognized his voice, and the other was that of a woman. I halted to listen. “I am sure that Brooks has told him something, and you must follow him everywhere he goes, if it is to the North Pole.” . This was what the woman said, and I had no diffi- culty in recognizing the voice of Mrs. Falgood. The housekeeper had also taken furnished apart- ments at the house nearly opposite that of Milton Brooks. Mollie’s visit was to her, and not to Pal- lingrove, though it amounted to the same thing. Before anything more was said the door was closed; A STOWAWAY ON THE “SLEEPER” 97 and it seemed to be a great oversight that it had not been shut before. But I had heard enough to satisfy me. Mrs. Fal- good was confident that my father had said something to me about the situation. They knew that I was go- ing away for some weeks, and the female spy insisted that Pallingrove should follow me—not an easy thing to do on the ocean. As I had learned all I wanted to know, I abandoned my visit to Pallingrove. Creeping softly down the stairs, I left the house. I walked up the street, think- ing what use I should make of the information I had obtained. The question was to get Mollie out of the house. I could not discharge her myself, and my fa- ther would not do so without some reason for such a step. As the result of my reflections, I concluded to see my father and manage the proposed discharge of the servant in the best way the circumstances would per- mit. I could begin by asking him some questions about his affairs, which would lead up to the inquiry whether or not there were any reasons why persons should be employed to watch him. It was a perilous task for me to undertake, but I decided to set about it without an hour’s delay. Of course, they were all surprised to see me at the 98 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN house, after I had told them I should not return for several weeks. The explanation satisfied them; but my father was very stiff and cold to me. It seemed to me now just as though he hated me, and did not wish me to come into his presence. Very likely the tremendous wrong done me had given birth to this feeling. He was seated at the window in the front parlor. After a few minutes, I intimated that I had some- thing to say to him which was of the greatest impor- tance. He told me to say it as quick as I could, for it was plain that he wished to get rid of me. ' H I don’t like to trouble you, father; but I want to ask you a question or two,” I began. “I shall not answer any questions,” he replied, in a surly tone. l‘ Do as you think best about that; but what you say shall not prevent me from asking them, for I believe your life and health depend upon this inquiry. Do you know of any reason why any person should watch you very closely and place spies around you? That is the first question.” I saw the perspiration start upon his forehead, and he was very much agitated. A STOWAWAY on THE “SLEEPER” 99 He made no answer at once—indeed, he appeared to be incapable of doing so. ' “Why did you ask me such a question?” he gasped at last. “Why did Mrs. Falgood neglect you when you were so sick?” I continued. “She meant to let me die without help I” exclaimed my father savagely. “Why should she be willing to let you die when you pay her for taking care of you, and when your death would probably deprive her of a good situation?” “I don’t know,” he replied, apparently bewildered by the question. “One more question: How came Mrs. Falgood to be your housekeeper?” “I wanted an Englishwoman to take care of my house, and I wrote to a friend of mine in London to send me one. Mrs. Falgood was sent over, and has been with me for five years,” he informed me, after a little hesitation. “Mrs. Falgood was a spy, whose business was to watch you. You don’t say who your London friend was. Could he have had any object in sending over a person to watch you ?” “How do you know she was a spy?” he asked sharply. A STOWAWAY ON THE “SLEEPER” rot “I hope no innocent person is (kept out of his rights by the failure to obtain your testimony,” I ventured to say. “The defendants’ solicitor says that my testimony could not possibly carry the case against them. That’s all I know about it.” My father would not say any more. His explana- tion was a fiction, though there was a grain of truth in it. Mollie was discharged, and sent out of the house that day by my father. Before night Mrs. Cas- tleton had another servant in her place, one who was too ignorant and stupid to be of any service to Mrs. Falgood. The next morning I went to see Maddy. He de- clared that he was perfectly well, and was ready to sail at once. I gave my friend the developments of the day before. Then he told me to say to Mr. Waxall that we should sail at daylight the next morning. This was to escape any visit from Mr. Pallingrove. He and I went on board that night. “Your friend Pallingrove came on board to see you last evening,” chuckled the mate when I turned out on Wednesday morning at three o’clock. “He went down into the cabin, and looked the vessel over with a great deal of interest. I don’t blame him for falling 102 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN in love with her, for I have done the same thing my- self.” “When was he here?” I asked. “Not half an hour before you and the skipper came on board. I don’t know how long he stayed. I was busy with the stores, and did not see him leave, though I was on deck all the time,” replied Mr. Waxall. I had become somewhat accustomed to handling spies by this time. Recalling the words of Mrs. Fal- good, that Pallingrove must follow me if it was to the North Pole, I wondered if he had gone ashore. He had looked the Sleeper over before, and he had no oc- casion to do so again so soon. 'Maddy came on deck when it began to be light in the east, and ordered Mr. Waxall to get under way. As the sun rose, I went into a careful examination of the Sleeper below deck. I had it in my mind that Pal- lingrove was concealed on board. There was nothing that could be called a hold in so small a vessel, but there was a considerable space above the ballast. Some of the heavier articles of stores had been stowed in this space. It had been opened the night before. The scuttle leading 'into it was under the main hatch, in the cook room. There was another scuttle in the cabin leading into the run. A STOWAWAY ON THE “SLEEPER” 103 I took off the latter and continued my explorations. Presently I heard a movement forward. I listened, and soon satisfied myself that we had a stowaway in the hold, as we sometimes called it. Without a doubt in my mind, Pallingrove was on board. 104 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XIII. PALLINGROVE WASHED OUT. After all that Pallingrove had said to me about join- ing us in the cruise of the Sleeper, and especially as he told me he had not given up the idea of going, I thought it best to be on the lookout for him. Mrs. Fal- good had declared that he must follow me, even to the North Pole. There was no practical way for him to follow me unless he chartered a fast steamer or smuggled himself on board the Sleeper as a stowaway. I intended to keep my eyes open for him, but I should not have thought of his concealing himself in the narrow limits of what we called the hold if Mr. Waxall had not told me that he had not seen him leave the vessel. I had crawled from the run to a point a little for- ward of the mainmast with a lantern in my hand. Probably the stowaway had found as comfortable a place as he could, and when he heard my approach he changed his position to one of greater security. At any rate, I heard the noise of his movement. His plan was obvious enough. He meant to remain in concealment until the Sleeper was out of sight of PALLINGROVE WASI-IED OUT I05 land, or until he had obtained some clue to her destina- tion. If Maddy Fayrthorne intended to cruise on the coast, he was willing to land at the first port the ves- sel made, if he failed to secure a passage as a guest. He could easily follow her near the shore. If the Sleeper went to sea, he would not show him- self until the yacht had gone too far to return. Of course, I could only guess what he was thinking about, yet I had done some very good guessing for one who had the reputation of being born in England. , As soon as I had made the discovery that we had a Stowaway on board, I reported the fact to the mate, and he informed the captain, for we were obliged to do everything in a shipshape manner on the Sleeper. Maddy called me, and asked me if I knew anything about the unwelcome passenger. “Of course I do,” I replied, laughing. “I have not seen him, but I heard him in the hold, and I am posi- tive the gentleman is Pallingrove.” “Pallingrove!” exclaimed the skipper. “I told you what Mrs. Falgood said to him at his new lodgings. He is to follow me if I go to the North Pole.” “I am heartily rejoiced that you found him so soon,” replied Captain Fayrthorne. “I should not have thought of his being on board if 106 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN Mr. Waxall had not told me that he did not see him leave the yacht yesterday afternoon, though he was on deck all the time.” lI Haven’t you noticed a smell of bilge water near the scuttle in the galley ?” asked Maddy. And I thought he was changing the subject of the conversation very suddenly. “No, I haven’t,” I replied, honestly enough. lI I have observed it this morning for the first time, and it annoys me exceedingly. If I had a barrel of cologne water, I would knock the head out and spill the contents into the hold. “I have not noticed any odor which you don’t find in any vessel,” I added. “Then your nose is at fault,” laughed Maddy. “I can’t stand it. As we have no cologne water, we must use salt water and wash out the hold. Mr. Waxall, there is a bad smell of bilge water in the cook room, and I want about a hundred hogsheads of sea water pumped into the hold, and then pumped out.” “It shall be done at once,” replied the mate, with a cheerful smile, as he called one of the two foremast hands. The Sleeper was provided with a small steam engine, set up in a little room next forward of the cook room. PALLINGROVE WASI-IED OUT 107 On the main deck above it was a windlass, with which we could hoist the sails or heave up the anchor. It also worked a powerful pump with which we could flood the decks, extinguish a fire, or pump out the well. This apparatus was Maddy’s own idea, and it saved the employment of from two to four hands. 'It would do a great deal of work without making any fuss about it. Stupanne, the cook, was the engineer, and a door opened from the galley into the little room which con- tained the boiler and machinery. Mr. Waxall directed the hands he had called to re- move the stores from the hold. The main hatch, over which was a skylight, was removed, and a purchase block dropped into the hold. The articles were merely hoisted into the cook room, which was very large for the size of the yacht, for Maddy considered it the most important apartment on board. He spent not a little of his time there, for he had a taste for cookery. I took charge of the removal of the stores, which consisted of bags and barrels of vegetables; but we did not disturb the barrels of beef and pork,,or the water casks, so that we had soon finished the job. I looked about for the stowaway, but I could not see him. Probably he had crawled into the forepeak. The wind was rather light, and we had all sail set, 108 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN though we had put on none of the kites, for we were in no hurry. , The ship’s company consisted of seven persons, as follows: Captain, Madison Fayrthorne; mate, Robert Waxall; second mate, Gay Brooks; steward, Moses Barber; cook, Raoul Stupanne; able seaman, Thomas Blubbs; ordinary seaman, Louis Digfield. Barber had been the chief steward of a sea steamer running to a Southern city, but he was paid better for his services on board of the Sleeper than he had ever received in a more exalted position. He acted as waiter at the table, and did all the work of the cabin. The cook was half French and half Russian. His Muscovite name was unpronounceable in New York, and he had tinkered it into its present form. He was capable of getting up a dinner for a first-class hotel, for he had learned the art in Paris. He liked his pres- ent position exceedingly well, and was willing to do any duty which might be asked of him. It was at his own request that he was given the care of the little engine. The elder deck hand was properly Captain Thomas Blubbs, for he had been the master of a coasting schooner, and knew his way in and out at every port in the State of Maine. He was about forty years old, and received more pay than he could earn in any capac- ity in a coaster. PALLINGROVE WASI-IED OUT I09 Louis Digfield was only twenty, but he had been second mate of an Indiaman. He was well educated, and had taken to the sea from pure love of a seafaring life, and his first voyage had not cured him of it. He was as brave as a lion and as daring as a tiger. All these people had been selected by Maddy or his father, with the advice of the mate. Though all of them had held higher positions, they worked with a will, and did all that was required of them without grumbling. Tom Blubbs, as we all called him, in spite of his former dignity, was ordered to take the hose and flood every part of the hold, beginning with the forepeak. Steam had been got up before the vessel left the pier. I was directed to go into the hold and see that the washing was thorough. By this time I understood the business, which I had not comprehended at first. The skipper had one of his serious fits, and he had arranged to drown out Pal- lingrove. “Don’t you think that’s enough for the forepeak, Mr. Brooks?” asked‘ Tom when he had discharged half a dozen hogsheads into that part of the vessel. “Not yet, Tom,” I replied; for I knew that the stowaway must have retreated to the forward part of the vessel. “Scatter the stream as much as you can.” no STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “That’s enough! Hold on! Let up!” shouted a voice in the forepeak. At the same time we heard a scrambling noise in the direction from which the shouts had come. Tom Blubbs was greatly astonished, and wanted to know what it meant. He said he thought there must be a man in the forepeak. H No doubt of it, and that is what the washing is for,” I replied. “Stop the pump, Stupanne.” “What in the world does all this mean?” asked Tom. “Wait, and you will understand it presently. We have a stowaway on board, and by this time he finds he has stowed himself away in a damp place,” I said, as the captain came into the cook room. “Have you washed him out, Mr. Brooks?” “He says he has enough, and asks us to let up.” “Come out quick, or we will let the water on again,” shouted Maddy. It was very dark in the lower part of the vessel, and we could not see the stowaway until he came very near the scuttle. It was Pallingrove, and he looked as though he had just crawled out of the ocean. ' He reached the scuttle and climbed out into the cook room. He was panting and blowing with the water that had been forced down his throat. He was dressed i:;rg;\~»» ~ i~ ' ‘J"‘Q’~*“,.P» _ HE LOOKED As IF HE HAD JUST CRAWLED om: OF THE OCEAN Page 110. PALLINGROVE WASI-IED OUT III in his usual rather nobby garments, but he did not look very fashionable just then. “That’s a beastly shabby trick to play off on a fel- low!” gasped he indignantly, as soon as he could speak. “Of course we had to wash out the hold when it needed it,” said Maddy, in his most serious mood. Pallingrove hurried up the ladder to the deck, and we all followed him. 112 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XIV. PALLINGROVE VISITS comay ISLAND. “It was a beastly shabby trick,” repeated Pallingrove when he reached the main deck of the Sleeper. “But we have to wash out the hold when its condi- tion endangers the health of the ship’s company,” re- plied Captain Fayrthorne, his face elongated till he looked like a parson on duty. “How could we know that a scallawag had stowed himself away in the depths of the vessel?” “A scallawag, sir!” exclaimed Pallingrove. ' And he had evidently been in New York long enough to learn the meaning of this word. “Certainly, a scallawag! No decent person would attempt to steal a passage on a vessel,” added Maddy, as sober as a judge on the bench. , “Do you mean to insult me, sir?” demanded Pal- lingrove, straightening himself up. “I don’t insult such fellows as you are. You are beneath my notice. Mr. Waxall, get out a boat and land this stowaway in the most convenient place.” “That will be on the tip end of Coney Island,” an- swered the mate. 114 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN of iron. Now I am drenched to the skin, with my very life in peril, and you propose to land me on that desert island, where I may die of exposure before I can obtain a dry suit.” “I obey the captain’s orders, whatever they may be,” I answered. ' ' “You selected your berth for the night on a pig of iron,” interposed the captain. “You came on board like a thief, and stowed yourself away, intending to steal a passage. Under the circumstances, I do not feel much solicitude in regard to your health or comfort.” “But it would be villainous to land me in such a place as that, Captain Fayrthorne,” pleaded Pal- lingrove, pointing to the shore toward which the Sleeper had been headed. “Am I to return to New York for the sake of land- ing a thief ?” asked Maddy. “We started early in the morning, and I shall not waste any time upon such fel- lows as you are.” And Maddy walked aft with nothing more to say. Mr. Waxall directed me to take the wheel, and de- tailed Tom Blubbs and Louis Digfield to man the quar- ter boat. . When we were as near the island as it was prudent to go, the order to luff up was given, and the two sail- ors lowered the boat into the water. PALLINGROVE VISITS CONEY ISLAND 115 “Can’t you do anything for me, my dear Gay ?” pleaded Pallingrove, as he came to the wheel. “Not a thing; and if I could I wouldn’t,” I replied, as decidedly as the case seemed to require. “I told you the captain would not have you on board, and, after such a shabby trick as you played on us, you have for- feited all claim to respect. I don’t want anything more of you.” *5‘ “You will hear from me again, Gay Brooks !” said he, suddenly changing his tone. “We shall meet again, and then it will be your turn to plead with me for some consideration.” . “You have shown me what you are, and I want nothing more to do with you,” I rejoined, hoping I should never see his face again. ' “You will have something more to do with me,” growled he. “Boat ready! Shall we heave the rascal into it?” called Tom from the after gangway. Pallingrove evidently did not like the looks of Tom, and he went into the boat without any persuasion. The old sailor followed him, and the two hands pulled a lively stroke for the shore. “I did not think the fellow would resort to such a trick,” said the skipper, as he watched the departing boat. 1:6 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “I never should have thought of such a thing if Mr. Waxall had not happened to say that he did not see him leave the vessel last night,” I replied. “Put- ting that with what Pallingrove had said, I thought it would be well to look the yacht over below before we got off soundings.” “You have certainly managed your case with won- derful skill, Gay.” “No skill at all about it. The accident of opening that letter gave me the key to everything. Without that I should have been as blind as a bat,” I answered; for I felt that I had done nothing, and had succeeded so far because Providence was on my side. “Be that as' it may, it is fortunate that we discov- ered him before we got out to sea. I intend to tell the hands that we are bound across the Atlantic as soon as we are in blue water, and the villain might have un- derstood when he found the Sleeper ‘was out of sight of land that we had not started out for a cruise on the coast.” ‘ “We have kept the weather gauge of the spies so far; but I hardly expect to do so all the time. What do you think the fellow will do next, Maddy?” I in- quired ; and I felt a deep interest in the subject. “We can only guess at th_e possibilities.” PALLINGROVE VISITS CONEY ISLAND 117 “But there are not a great many possibilities,” I sug- gested. “Yes, there are ; lots of ’em.” “If he is to follow me, I do not see that he can do anything but charter a steamer for the purpose.” “That is, indeed, the only way in which he can fol- low us, for I think we could keep out of the way of any sailing vessel with the start we have.” “That would be a very expensive way to do it.” “If these conspirators are satisfied that you intend to visit England they would not consider any expense. They have offered to give Milton Brooks five thou- sand pounds to keep him quiet. That is twenty-four thousand two hundred dollars about, and they won’t pay it while they are in doubt. This sum would keep a steamer going for the next four or six months.” “That’s good logic, Maddy; but what is the use of the fellow’s following us? He can’t capture the Sleeper on the high seas, for that would be piracy.” “He can charge us with being filibusters, bound for Cuba, or with having a defaulter on board, or anything of that sort.” “In any such case, they can only search the vessel. They can’t take us back to New York. The only rea- son he can have for following us is to ascertain where I am going. The spy is to keep his eye on me. 118 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “I think you are right, and I was speaking only of possibilities. There is one thing, however, I am con- fident Pallingrove will do. He will send a cable dis- patch to P. Grantham to this effect: “ ‘Boy sailed in yacht Sleeper, supposed for Eng- land.’ “That is the only sensible thing he can do.” “Then Grantham will employ agents to look out for the arrival of the Sleeper,” I added. “Precisely.” “But we have a right to land in Europe, and we can investigate my case in spite of any agents or detect- ives.” “But they will find means to annoy you, and may cause our arrest on some trumped-up charge.” . “But, Maddy, I am leading you into hot water. I don’t want to get you into trouble,” I continued, seeing that I was to be a burden to him. “Don’t mention it, Gay. I am as much interested in this affair as you are, and you have given me an ob- ject in visiting Europe. It is just the sort of adven- ture in which I delight to engage. If I am arrested, my father’s name will conjure up an army of friends in any city in England or on the Continent. I have letters of credit and letters of introduction, and I can PALLINGROVE VISITS CONEY ISLAND 119 explain myself and my yacht anywhere. This affair is mine, and I shall stand by you to the end. There is a spice of excitement about it that I like.” “Well, any time when you find that I am too heavy a load for you to carry, all you have to do is to shake me off, Maddy, and I shall not blame you for it.” “That will never be. Here comes the boat.” Mr. Waxall directed me to put the helm down and come about. We picked up the boat, hoisted it up to the davits, and were soon on our course again. By this time breakfast was ready. Louis Digfield reported that the stowaway had not opened his mouth to speak during the passage to the shore, and we could see him running to warm himself on the beach. The watches had not yet been arranged for the voyage, and the mate and I took the morning meal with the captain. no STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XV. STEALING A MARCH. Maddy and I enjoyed every day and hour of the trip across the ocean. Of course, we had a great variety of weather, and we had to lie to under a close-reefed foresail for thirty hours at one time. But we had a fresh northwest wind during most of the voyage, and Mr. Waxall said we were making a quick passage. We sighted a great many ships and steamers; but we did not care to be re- ported, and we gave them all a wide berth. Hardly a day passed in which Maddy and I did not discuss my case in full. We read P. Grantham’s letter a hundred times, and looked over the addresses I had obtained from the housekeper’s letter or my father’s papers. “You and I have not had any experience on this side of the ocean, and Mr. Waxall has had a great deal,” said Maddy to me the day we sighted the coast of Ireland. “I have been thinking we had better tell him the whole story of what we are driving at in Eu- rope.” I consented, and, during my next watch, the skipper STEALING A MARCH 121 told him my story, and showed him the meagre papers we had, a copy of each of which was in Maddy’s pos- session. When the narrative was finished, both of them came on deck, and we had a talk about my affairs. “Your first business on this side of the water is to look up P. Grantham and Mrs. Harriet Shrimp,” said the mate, who seemed to be quite as much interested as the skipper in the matter. “Of course; and thus to get on the t.rack of the per- son who is called Maldrake in the letter,” replied Maddy. ’ “Grantham is probably a London solicitor, who has the charge of the chief coi1spirator’s business affairs. I am afraid it will be difficult to find him.” “I don’t think so,” I replied. “He was stupid enough to say all that was needed to give me a clue to the whole conspiracy, and I don’t believe he will take the trouble to hide himself in London.” “Perhaps you are right, but you can only know after you have tried,” said the mate. “You must pro- ceed with extreme caution. We cannot prevent the yacht from being reported when we make a port; but you and Captain Fayrthorne ought to be in London, Mr. Brooks, before the vessel is heard from.” “I don’t see how that can be managed, unless Gay and I swim ashore,” said the skipper. 122 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN ll We must give the Lizard a wide berth, so that the observers there cannot make out the vessel. We must 77 go more to the southward. The captain gave the order to change the course to the southeast. The mate said he would look into the situation, and advise the captain what to do as soon as he came to a conclusion. Through the skylight I could see Mr. Waxall study- ing the chart on the cabin table. In the course of an hour he came on deck again. . “I think I have it now,” said Mr. Waxall, as he seated himself forward of the cabin skylight. “We will run for Havre, for we are expected to land in Eng- land. Grantham will not look for us in France.” “But we shall be reported at a French port as well as an English one,” suggested Maddy. “No doubt of that; and in due time the arrival of the Sleeper will be telegraphed to London. But you must get to London before the yacht is reported there,” replied the mate. “You have been wise enough to put a Bradshaw into the cabin library, and I have been looking it over. Steamers leave Havre for Southamp- ton at midnight. Passengers get to London early in the afternoon." STEALING A MARCH I23 “But there may be some one on the lookout for us at Havre,” said Maddy. “It is not at all probable. Grantham will expect to get his first intelligence from the station on the south coast of Ireland,” continued Mr. Waxall. “We are two or three days’ sail from Havre, and we cannot make definite arrangements yet.” We had a remarkably good breeze, and at the end of the second day we were close to the French coast, at the mouth of the Seine. The mate had studied up his tide tables, and at nine o’clock in the evening we dropped anchor off the jetties. We had taken a pilot, who was able to give us all the information we needed. Although it was nine o’clock, it was still daylight. We had been twenty-one days on the voyage, and our arrival was on one of the longest days of the year. I had a talk with the pilot in French. We desired to reach London as soon as possible. He volunteered to see us on board of the Southampton steamer, and the boat was lowered for our. use. As we did not put our feet on the shore, no one asked us any questions. Mr. Waxall was now acting captain, and he was to report the arrival of the Sleeper the next morning and attend to all the custom-house formalities. He was instructed to remain at Havre until he received writ- ten orders by letter. 124 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN Maddy and I, each with a valise, went on board of the little English steamer. The passengers from Paris who choose to go to London by this route come to Havre by one of three trains, the last leaving at about six o’clock. Two of these trains had arrived, and we found the cabin occupied by a considerable number of passengers. I was too much excited to sleep. Everything was new and strange to me, as it was to Maddy, for he had never before been in Europe. We were both awake when the last train from Paris arrived, and the vessel was soon under way. The air became somewhat fresher, and I went to sleep. When I woke, the steamer was at her pier in Southampton, and we landed at once. We encountered the custom-house officials, and our valises were examined, though the search was not at all strict. We took the first available train, and were in Lon- don just before ten o’clock. We entered the great city as two strangers, and we desired to remain so for the present. We went to the Charing Cross Hotel, by the advice of Mr. Waxall. We took a large room, with two win- dows looking into the railroad station, of which the hotel is a part. STEALING A MARCH 125 “Here ye are, Gay, and I feel as though we had stolen a march upon the conspirators,” said Maddy when the porter had left the apartment. “No doubt of that,” I replied. “Now we are ready for the great work of hunting down Mr. P. Gran- tham.” “Nineteen Little Queen Street is the key to the situation,” he added. “But, Gay, we must work with the utmost care.” “just so,_Maddy ; and I don’t think we need to make the acquaintance of Mr. Grantham at once. We must not give him the chance to arrange things for our benefit.” “The first thing is to take a look at Little Queen Street.” My friend assented to this proposition. We had left our yacht uniforms on board of the Sleeper and were dressed in plain _clothes. We went down to breakfast, and then called a hansom. 126 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XVI. IN LITTLE QUEEN STREET. The driver of the hansom left us at the corner of Great Queen and Little Queen Streets. Maddy gave him a half crown, for which he thanked him, for it was more than his regular fare. I had plenty of money and a letter of credit in my pocket; but the skipper insisted on paying all the bills. Little Queen Street was a very short avenue, and led into Holborn, one of the great avenues of the city, though called by other names above and below it. Without difficulty we found No. I9. We could not make out whether the building was a dwelling house or was used for offices. There were a number of names on tin signs at the door, but P. Grantham was not one of them. “There appears to be no such person in this house, said Maddy when we had examined the signs half a 77 dozen times. “His name doesn’t appear, at any rate,” I replied, deeply disappointed at the result of our first examina- tion of the premises. “There are a number of persons in the house, and IN LITTLE QUEEN STREET 127 H all we have to do is to go in and make inquiries, sug- gested Maddy. Suiting the action to the word, he seized the door handle; but the door was locked. We had concluded that the apartments in the house were the offices of the persons whose names we found on the outside. If this was the case, they were not open to the public. “Perhaps it is a lodging house ?” I observed, while we were looking over the building, in great doubt and some trepidation. “Lodgers do not put their names on signs outside of the door, even in London,” replied Maddy. “But my father’s letters must be brought to this house,” I said. , “Probably they are,” answered Maddy, as much perplexed as I was. “I think we had better retire for consultation.” “Do you mean to give it up ?” I asked, not a little astonished at the suggestion of a retreat. H By no means; but a new idea has come into my head,” he replied, as he led the way back into Great Queen Street. He called a hansom cab again, and we drove back to the hotel. I asked him what the new idea was, but he declined to answer me in the street. We went to our room, and he locked the door. 128 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN H We shall not make anything by being in a hurry, Gay,” said he, as he threw himself into an armchair. “We can‘ have all the time we want for this business, and if we use up six months or a year on our travels, no one will find any fault. I told Mr. Waxall to cable our arrival to my father this morning, a'nd I have no doubt he has done so.” “But I don’t think there is any use wasting'our time because we have plenty of it,” I replied. H I don’t mean to waste a moment of it. Now for the new idea. I suppose you expected, as I did, to find the name of P. Grantham on the door of his office, as we should that of any legal gentleman or business man in the United States ?” “That is what I expected, and I confess I am woe- fully disappointed at the result of our visit to Little Queen Street,” I answered. _ And I felt just then as if the bottom of our enter- prise had dropped out. “When I look at the matter, I think we ought not to be surprised. I have come to the conclusion that ‘P. Grantham’ is a fictitious name.” “What makes you think so?” H First, because we do not find his name on the door of his.office, if he has any office at the place we have IN LITTLE QUEEN STREET 129 visited. Second, the chief conspirator in this business must be a very wealthy man, and able to employ a first- class villain to do his dirty work for him. Such an agent would not have an office in such a place as we looked at.” “Is this the new idea?” H It is_ only a part of it. If P. Grantham is a ficti- tious name, I_ am satisfied that it is used only in the communications relating to the conspiracy,” replied Maddy, looking very serious and very thoughtful. “It doesn’t matter what it is used for, if we can only find the owner of the name,” I answered, fearing that my friend was so cautious that we should not get ahead at all. “Well, what do you think we had better do ?” asked Maddy, who seemed to be a little touched by my im- plied dissent from his views. H Explore that house, and find if there is any such person as P. Grantham there,” I replied, with some energy. H Very good; and the moment that P. Grantham, real or fictitious, is informed, by the person who at- tends to the door at that house, that inquiries have been made for him, he will know that an enemy is on his track,” said Maddy very earnestly. “I think it 130 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN would be equivalent to telling him that we have come to claim what belongs to you.” “I don’t see that there is any other way to get at the _matter,” I continued, though I was struck with the force of what my friend said. “Perhaps there is not; but I am in favor of looking the subject over very carefully before we make any misstep.” We discussed this matter for two hours, and then we took another ride to Little Queen Street. As we entered the street, we saw a postman come out of a house nearly opposite the one we had visited before. “Good morning, my friend,” said Maddy, approach- ing the man. “Do you happen to know if there is a lodging house in this street ?” “A lodging house? What do you mean by that ?” asked the man, with a pleasant smile. “Do you mean furnished apartments ?” “That is just what I mean,” laughed Maddy, who thought he had not fitted his question to the meridian of London. “This is not the right quarter for such houses, but there is just one in the whole street, and that is kept by my mother,” replied the postman. “Her best rooms were vacated a week since, and they are not let again.” IN LITTLE QUEEN STREET 131 “In what part of the street is the house ?” inquired the skipper. “I just came out of the house. I am the postman on this route, and I was getting a bit of dinner,” he explained. “If you like, I will take you to the house.” H We shall be very much obliged to you if you will do so,” replied Maddy eagerly. “You are strangers in London, I see,” said Garville, as his name afterward proved to be. “We are, and we have just arrived,” said Maddy, as we entered the house. The postman called his mother, and the rooms were shown to us. The skipper had not even hinted at the idea of tak- ing furnished rooms, and his proceedings were not a little strange to me. The apartments were a front parlor and a rear chamber on the second floor. They were very plainly furnished, but the rooms were neat and clean. I followed Maddy to the front windows, and we took a look at the house opposite, at which we had called before. “What is the price of these rooms?” asked my ready companion. “Three guineas a week,” answered the woman. You see they are near Lincoln’s Inn Fields and Furni- H 132 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN val’s, and they command a better price than they would in some other parts of London.” “We don’t object to the price, madam; but we may not want them for a long time.” “I don’t like to engage the rooms for less than a month, though—— H 77 All right, madam; we will take them for a month, {though we may not stay three days,” interrupted Maddy lightly. “You are very generous,” continued the landlady; and I thought she was a little suspicious that she might be taking in some bad characters, we were so indiffer- ent to the price. “As you are strangers in London, I am willing to give you references as to the character of the house.” “We don’t require any references, madam.” H But, as you are strangers to me, I hope you will be willing to mention some person as a reference for 77 me. I am a poor woman, and “Certainly, madam; with the greatest pleasure. Here is my card, and I refer you to my bankers, Tim- othy Wiggin & Co., fifteen Old jewry Chambers. But I will save you the trouble of visiting them by paying the rent of the rooms for a month in advance,” replied Maddy, taking out his purse filled with sovereigns. IN LITTLE QUEEN STREET 133 “Now we will go to the Charing Cross Hotel for our luggage, as you call it on this side of the ocean,” said Maddy, when he had paid the woman in full for the month. “You will find them very nice rooms, gentlemen,” said Gan/ille, the postman, as he conducted us down the stairs. “My mother is a very good cook, and if you will please to tell her the night before what you will have for breakfast, it will be ready at any hour you desire.” “Thank you. And we shall give your mother the order. We may want dinners and suppers as well as breakfasts,” replied Maddy. “So much the better. If there is anything I can do for you, I shall be very glad to serve you,” added the postman, as he took off his hat and bowed to us. “Very likely I shall have need of you,” added Mad- dy, as he tipped the man with a sovereign. “Thank you, sir; thank you, sir. You are real gen- tlemen. But you must excuse me now, for I have to deliver my letters. You will find a cab or a hansom in Great Queen Street.” “You are cutting a wide swath, Maddy,” I remarked, as we walked down the street. “That postman is my friend, and he will remain so 134 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN as long as he can make anything out of us,” replied Maddy, laughing. You did not say that you thought of taking rooms in the city,” I said. “I had no idea of doing so when I first spoke to that postman. I wanted to get acquainted with him, and when I spoke to him I asked the first question that came into my head. But when I found that we could get rooms opposite number nineteen, I was ready for business. Gay, the problem has solved itself. We can ascertain all we want to know about P. Grantham with- out going any nearer to his office. Of course, our man delivers his letters, and he will know, or can find out, something about him.” “Then we have blundered into the right path.” “Hardly blundered, since the sight of the postman pointed out to me the way to solve the difficulty,” re- plied Maddy, as he hailed a hansom. In a couple of hours more we were domiciled in our new quarters, and we spent most of the time for the rest of the day in watching the house opposite. We were well rewarded for doing so, for at about four in the afternoon we were not a little astonished to see Pallingrove ring the bell at the door of No. 19. It was three weeks since we left him on the 136 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XVII. WATCHING NUMBER NINETEEN. “I feel as a poor man might if he had found a gold mine, Gay,” said Maddy Fayrthorne when we saw Pallingrove ring the bell at the house opposite. “We have struck the vein, and I am thankful that we did not attempt to get into that house.” “I think we are on the right track,” I replied, with my gaze still fixed on the spy, who was standing at the door waiting for some one to open it. “You were wise beyond your years, Maddy, in retreating from the house as you did. I have no doubt now that Grantham, whether the name is real or not, has an office in that building.” “Of course he has; and when we have a chance to talk with the postman, I have no doubt we shall find out something about him,” rejoined Maddy. “I won- der if Pallingrove knows that we are in London ?” “I should say that it was quite impossible he should 7.<:ow we are here. We went into Havre only last night, and I am confident no one could have been on the lookout for us there.” I “But we are in a very shaky position, Gay,” con- WATCHING NUMBER NINETEEN 137 tinued Maddy. “Our names will soon get out, and very likely be carried to the house opposite. I gave my name to the landlady, though yours was not men- tioned. I made a mistake.” Maddy looked troubled_ and anxious. But just at this moment the door of No. 19 was opened by an el- derly woman. The moment she saw Pallingrove, she rushed to meet him, grasped his hands, and kissed him. The woman was too old to be his wife or his sweet- heart, or even his sister. “I don’t quite understand that,” said the skipper, as the elderly woman pulled the spy into the house and closed the door. “Don’t you? I think that is an easy one to guess. That woman is Mrs. Tremble, and she is Pallingrove s mother,” I replied. “That must be the explanation of what we have seen.” “And at least two other things are explained,” I continued. “What are they ?” asked Maddy, with his gaze still fixed on the door of No. 19. “The mother would not have been quite so demon- strative if she had seen her son recently. That indi- cates that he has lately arrived, perhaps this very day.” 138 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “Quite reasonable, Gay! Probably Grantham has no office in that house. His letters come to Pallin- grove’s mother, and she carries them to the agent, wherever he may be located.” “That, too, looks very probable. At any rate, we have got a starting point, and all we have to fear now is that Pallingrove may discover us. That would knock everything out of gear. It was the luckiest thing in the world that we did not inquire at that house for Grantham.” “That’s so; but as we have made no bad blunders so far, we ought to be able to manage the matter with the light we have obtained,” I replied, elated with our progress, as I summed it up in my own mind. “We have got so far, and have the key to the situa- tion in our own hands. VI/hat to do next is the great question,” said Maddy. “When Pallingrove leaves that house, we must know where he goes. He knows where to find P. Grantham, and of course he will see him very soon.” “But it will not be safe for you or me to follow him,” I suggested. “If he saw either of us, our cake would be dough in an instant.” “Not quite so bad as that, Gay. We are not little lambs, and I believe we should be able to pull the oars on our side of the boat even if he knew we were here I 9 u '3 WATCHING NUMBER NINETEEN 139 as he must know very soon. We must take some risks.” “But the less the better.” “Certainly; but we must not let the grass grow un- der our feet by waiting till everything is entirely favor- able. When Pallingrove comes out of that house, I shall follow him,” continued Maddy. “He never saw me out of my yacht uniform, and I have met him only three times. I shall not let him see me.” “But what am I to do?” I asked. ll Do nothing but keep out of sight. He would know you if he saw you a mile off.” “I think he would; but I don’t like the idea of your following Pallingrove all over London. He is at home here, and you are not.” “That’s so; and I don’t like to do it. But there is no other way,” answered Maddy. H We need some help in this business, and a private detective could shadow Pallingrove a great deal better than you can.” “That’s it, exactly!” exclaimed Maddy, springing out of his chair at the window. He rang the bell, which was promptly answered by Mrs. Garville. “Has your son returned ?” 140 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “Yes, sir; he has just come in. It is six o’clock, and he has no more mails to-day,” replied the landlady. “Will you ask him if he will be good enough to come up?” said Maddy. In a few minutes Garville came to our rooms. He was dressed in plain clothes, and seemed very anxious to serve us in any way he could, for Maddy had ‘been very liberal with him and with his mother. “Do you know your neighbors in London, Mr. Gar- ville ?” asked the skipper. “As a rule, we don’t know anything about them; but my business makes me acquainted with all of them who receive letters.” “Do you know who lives in the house on the other side of the street—number nineteen ?” “Mrs. Tremble has the house, and lets out the rooms for artists, draughtsmen, and for offices. I could give you a list of them, with their business, if you desire it,” answered Garville. “Are you acquainted with Mrs. Tremble ?” “Only as I have become acquainted with her when I left letters at her house. She always comes to the door herself, and takes the letters for all in the house.” “Has she a family?” “She has two daughters, who work in a box factory, I I I l l J I l I WATCHING NUMBER NINETEEN 141 and one son; but I heard that he had gone to America, and there have been no letters for him lately.” “What is the son’s name ?” “john Tremble, which it was his father’s name be- fore him; but he is dead.” “I am very much obliged to you for the information, Mr. Garville,” replied Maddy, as he slipped another sovereign into his hand. And the man must have thought he had discovered a gold mine. ' The postman was very grateful, and began to pour forth his thanks; but the skipper checked him, and told him to ask his mother to send up mutton chops, muf- fins, and tea for our supper. The man was about to leave when the skipper called him back. “We are in London on important business, and we wish to remain as quiet as possible. Do you and your mother talk to your neighbors about your lodgers ?” asked Maddy, assuming an indifference he did not feel. “Never, sir!” protested Garville. “We never speak of them.” “Don’t mention our names to any one, or allow your curiosity to get the better of your judgment,” cau- tioned Maddy. “Not a soul in London shall know you are here from 142 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN us. We don’t mind other people’s affairs, which it is as much as we can do to care for our own.” “You understand me; but we are not criminals, fugi- tives from justice, defaulters, or anything of that sort.” ‘ . “Bless you, sir! No one would suspect such gentle- men as you are of doing anything wrong,”'exclaimed Garville. I “But we are looking up some villains, and we need some assistance about it,” explained Maddy. “I shall be most happy to serve you in any way I can,” eagerly assured the postman. “But you have to attend to your letters. I suppose there are private detectives in London?” “The best in the whole world!” said Garville, with enthusiasm. “It was only a week ago that one of the sharpest of them was in this very house with me for a full hour. He was looking up a letter with a draft for a matter of five hundred pounds in it, which I gave to a solicitor’s clerk; and that clerk is on trial now, or soon will be, for stealing it.” ' “Do you know where to find this sharp man?” “I do, very well, indeed; for I had ocasion to go twice to his office, as I am the principal witness against the clerk.” “Is his office far from Little Queen Street?” WATCHING NUMBER NINETEEN I43 H It is in Red Lion Street, not five minutes’ walk from this.” “How long would it take to get him here?” “Not a quarter of an hour if he is still in his office. I will go for him at once, if you wish.” “Do so ; but you needn’t tell him anything you may happen to know about us,” added Maddy. “Not a word or a sign, sir!” protested Garville, as he hurried out of the room. Both Maddy and I kept our eyes fixed on the door of the house opposite, as a cat watches the hole in which a mouse has disappeared. We took positions so that we could see without being seen. In less than half an hour Garville returned, accompanied by a typical Eng- lishman with a very sharp eye. Garville introduced him as Mr. Buckley Wadlaw, and left the room himself. MR. BUCKLEY WADLAW I45 “Perhaps I do. But I don’t undertake any boys’ play,” answered the detective, with a palpable sneer. “Very well, sir; if you don’t wish to undertake our business, I am sorry I troubled you to come here,” re- plied Maddy, with dignity enough for a lord mayor of London. “It is rather unusual to be sent for by a couple of lads,” said Mr. Buckley Wadlaw. “If you object to your employers, nothing more need be said. We can doubtless find another person who will do it. I won’t tax you for another moment of your time, sir.” “I have heard that American boys get on a great deal faster than English boys. Are you American boys?” asked the visitor, his round face beginning to glow with something like a smile. “That has nothing to do with the business in which we sought your assistance,” replied Maddy stiffiy. “As I said before, we need not take any more of your valu- able time.” “I suppose you have a little money in your pocket?” suggested Mr. Wadlaw, in a more pliable tone, his expression having expanded into a real smile, as though he actually enjoyed the conversation. “I have; and it is likely to remain there, so far as you are concerned,” retorted Maddy. 146 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “But you needn’t be so touchy, my brave youngster, though I rather like you for it.” “Do you, indeed? You have a. surly dog’s way about you.” . “Perhaps I have; but your messenger said that a couple of gentlemen wished to see me, and could not tell me anything about them,” replied Mr. Wadlaw. “I grant I was astonished when I was brought into the presence of two boys.” “How old was Charles XII. when he took command of the armies of Sweden?” asked Maddy, relaxing his dignity a little. “I don’t know, sir; I was not there at the time,” laughed the detective, who had put himself into a very good humor. “He was two years younger than I am.” “Do you command any armies?” “Not an army. Charles was ahead. of me, and he was not an American boy, either.” “I didn’t know Charles, but I have no doubt he was a very clever youth. Now, if you will state your busi- ness with me, I can soon tell you whether or not I will undertake it.” “I wish to shadow a certain person, and find out all about him,” replied Maddy briefly. 148 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN talk, we were both satisfied with him. When he fixed the price for his services, it was so many shillings a day. “That won’t do,” said Maddy stoutly. “You will spend a month on it if you work by the day. I will give you twenty pounds for the information you may obtain, if it is sufficient to answer my purpose. If you will give it to me by this time to-morrow, I will give you ten pounds extra; if the day following, five pounds.” “That is liberal enough. But lads like you don’t have thirty pounds in their pockets, as a rule,” said Mr. Wadlaw, with a smile, to soften the offensive doubt “I will pay you ten pounds in advance, then.” And he handed out the sovereigns. The man was perfectly satisfied, and began to dis- play a great deal of zeal in the business. Maddy pointed out No. I9 to him. “In that house lives Mrs. Tremble, a widow, who rents the rooms for offices and studios. She has two daughters and a son. The son is the person we wish you to shadow,” continued Maddy. “He has just re- turned from the United States, and is in the employ of some person in London, whose business he has been doing in New York. Find out all you can about 150 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN asked for a description of Pallingrove, and I could not understand how he was to know his man if he saw him. just at dark the spy came out of his mother’s house, and walked toward Great Queen Street. Maddy rushed down the stairs, and out into the street. He returned in less than half an hour. He reported that Wadlaw was on the track of his quarry. “But how did he know Pallingrove from the lord mayor ?” I asked. “I don’t know. But he did know him. Pallingrove took a hansom, and Wadlaw took another a minute later. Possibly he knew his man. I don’t care if he did. We have not committed ourselves.” “But if Wadlaw should tell'Pallingrove that a couple of young fellows are shadowing him, he would know that we are in England,” I suggested. “That would be downright treachery, of which I don’t believe Wadlaw would be guilty. But Pallin- grove will know in a day or two that we are in Eng- land, whatever we do or refrain from doing,” replied Maddy. We discussed the subject till bedtime, and, after the skipper had written a letter to Waxall, directing him to take the Sleeper to Southampton, we retired, and slept till a late hour the next morning. MR. BUCKLEY WADLAW 1 5I We had nothing to do all day, and even at the risk of being seen by Pallingrove, we visited the Tower, Westminster Abbey, St. Paul’s, and other sights in London. We did not meet the spy, and there was only one chance in a million that he had seen us. We returned to Little Queen Street before six o’clock in the evening, ready to receive a visit from Wadlaw, though we hardly expected to see him again so soon. “A gentleman called to see you about half an hour ago,” said Mrs. Garville, as she admitted us. “A gentleman !” exclaimed Maddy. “Did he leave his name ?” “He did not, but said he called last night, and would come again at half-past six.” This reply relieved us, since it assured us it was not Pallingrove. Wadlaw was ready to report, and this was cheering news. We had purchased a copy of each of the morning and evening papers. In one of them we read a short paragraph to the effect that the American yacht Sleeper had arrived at Havre from New York, and that the owner, Mr. Madison Fayrthorne, had immediately departed for England. A FLOOD OF INFORMATION I53 “How did you know him then when he came out of his mother’s house? You did not ask for any descrip- tion of him,” I said. “It wasn’t necessary to have any description beyond what you gave me. He was the son of the landlady, and when he came out of the house, his mother came to the door with him and bade him good-by. If I had been in doubt, I should have beckoned to you at the window. Besides, one of you came out of the house as soon as Tremble had passed your door, and he would have set me right if I had make a mistake.” “I saw that you had the right man,” said Maddy rather impatiently. “Now what is he?” “Shall I give you the information in the order that I obtained it, or shall I answer your questions?” asked Wadlaw, as he took a little package of papers from his pocket. “Tell us first who and what john Tremble is,” said Maddy. “He was a lawyer’s clerk till four months ago, when he was sent to America,” replied the shadow, consult- ing one of the papers in his hand. “He was in the employ of Mr. Prince Crayblock, attorney and solic- itor. Really, he is what we call here a ‘family solic- itor,’ because he takes charge of the affairs of one or 154 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN more wealthy families. Attorneys and solicitors, you know, prepare law cases for the barristers to plead in ¢0111"t; but I don’t think Mr. Crayblock does anything of this sort. “john Tremble has always lived with his mother in the house opposite, and he has the reputation of being a very shrewd and clever fellow. I could not learn what his business in America was, and you did not in- struct me to ascertain.” “We know all about that,” interposed Maddy. “Now you may give the rest of your information in your own way, and we will not interrupt you.” “Well, my lads—pardon, gentlemen—I followed Tremble to the vicinity of Cavendish Square; I have the street and number on a card for you,” continued Wadlaw, tossing the address to Maddy. “On the door I found the name of Prince Crayblock. While my man was in the house I looked about me, got a look at the post-office directory, and had a bit of a chat with a grocer near the house. I couldonly ascertain that Crayblock was a solicitor, and had an office near Lin- coln’s Inn Fields. Here is his business address,” he added, throwing another card on the table at which he was seated. “My man stayed in the house only about half an hour. Then he came out with a gentleman which I took to be Mr. Crayblock, who had a traveling A FLOOD OF INFORMATION 155 bag in his hand. He called a four-wheeler in Oxford Street, and I took a hansom. “I followed the solicitor and his clerk to the Great Western Railway Station. In the crowd I kept close to my men, and.I heard Tremble call the gentleman Mr. Crayblock; and that satisfied me that I was getting on finely. “Mr. Crayblock bought two tickets for Bath, and as soon as he left the booking office I bought one ticket for Bath. We were just in time to strike the eight-ten train. My men took a first-class passage, and I a sec- ond-class, but I knew I should find them at the station in Bath. I am as well acquainted there as in London. “We arrived on time, at eleven-forty. I heard them bargain for a carriage at the door of an inn, and I bar- gained for another as soon as they went into the house. I had time to get a bit of supper while they were bring- ing out the horses, but in twenty minutes we were on the road. ' “I told my driver to follow the other carriage, and not lose sight of it on any account. He told me there was no danger of that, as the other had been engaged to go to Holloway Hall, about five miles from Bath. I instructed him to drive by the entrance to the grounds of the Hall, and then stop. I went to sleep, and did not wake till the driver called me. 156 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “It was after midnight, and no one was stirring near the Hall. My driver told me it was the residence of Sir Morgan Gayworthy. Of course, I could not follow Mr. Crayblock into the mansion, but I could see even in the darkness that it was a magnificent es- tate, and the owner of it must be one of the richest men in the United Kingdom. I had ascertained where the lawyer and his clerk went, and I had nothing more to do in that vicinity, and I drove back to Bath. “On my way there I put together what I had learned. Tremble had just come from America, and went very soon to the house of the solicitor, as it was after busi- ness hours. His affair was important enough to induce Mr. Crayblock to take a trip to Bath, and visit Hollo- way Hall in the small hours of the morning. I con- cluded that Tremble’s business on the other side of the Atlantic deeply concerned Sir Morgan Gayworthy, or he would not have been in such a hurry to see him with his clerk. “I took the first train in the morning back to Lon- don, and arrived at eleven-fifteen. “I have spent the time since that in looking up Sir Morgan Gayworthy, as he is really the employer of Tremble. It was easy enough to get at him, for he has a town house in London. Here is what I learned 158 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN valet was a little in advance of them when the wall fell. He laid the infant on a doorstep, and attempted to save his master. At that instant another portion of the wall fell, and buried the child in the ruins. By a miracle, the valet escaped unhurt. “john Gayworthy’s brother, Morgan, was in Con- stantinople at the time, having just returned from a tour through the Holy Land. It is said that he was made crazy by the sad event. He came home, and when his father died, about ten years ago, he became Sir Morgan Gayworthy, and inherited all of the vast fortune.’ H Where did you obtain all this information, Mr. Wadlaw, for you seem to be reading it in print?” asked Maddy, breathless with interest, as I was also. “I got it from a brother of mine, who is a journalist, and who wrote up an account of the fire, and the tragic death of the secretary of legation and his wife and child,” replied Wadlaw. “That is all the information I have been able to obtain.” H’ And it is a great deal more than I expected to ob- tain. Here is the other ten pounds of the price, and twenty pounds extra, I am so well pleased with what you have done,” replied Maddy. “That is very liberal, and I give you my best thanks,” A FLOOD OF INFORMATION 159 said Wadlaw, pocketing the money. “I shall be glad to serve you again, gentlemen, I assure you.” “And you may. You mentioned a person by the name of Maldrake in your narrative,” replied Maddy. “The father of john Gayworthy’s wife ?” “The same. I will give you fifty pounds if you will find him,” said Maddy. “And expenses ?” interrogated Wadlaw. “Yes.” “Perhaps Maldrake is dead, or not to be found?” suggested the detective. “I will pay you the same to ascertain what has be- come of him.” Wadlaw promised to do the best he could, and de- parted. 160 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XX. IN SEARCH or A GRANDFATHER. “Hurrah!” shouted Maddy, dancing wildly around the room as soon as Wadlaw had gone down the stairs. “We have got at the whole thing in just twenty-four hours. I really think myself that American boys get ahead faster than any others.” “You have done it all, Maddy, and you have paid out a pile of money on my account,” I added. “Nonsense, Gay! I have not paid out a hundredth part of what I am willing to disburse in this affair, for I am interested,” he replied, still dancing about the apartment. “But I want you to understand that I shall pay you every penny you spend for me, even if I don’t come into possession of any estate,” I continued. “I am able to pay all that has been expended so far for me.” “You are? I thought you said Milton Brooks (I am not inclined to call him your father any longer) did not give you any pocket money.” “No, I find my own funds.” And I explained in what manner I had earned and saved a thousand dollars. IN SEARCH OF A GRANDFATHER 161 He was astonished and a little indignant that I had kept the fact from him. But my explanation satisfied him. He insisted upon paying all the bills, and we compromised by allowing me to keep an account of the sums expended in my interest. “Don’t bother any more about trifles, Gay. I am satisfied, and you have no reason to complain. We are losing sight of our mission. Upon my word, I believe we have well-nigh finished the business,” said Maddy, with a burst of enthusiasm. “I don’t think we have,” I replied, less excited than he. “I am afraid the most difficult part of the job is still before us.” “We have obtained a flood of information, and perhaps you have been able to digest it by this time.” “So far as filling up the outline sketch we obtained from P. Grantham’s letter is concerned, I can do it perfectly. Wadlaw’s statements of the events in Con- stantinople made everything clear to me.” “Wadlaw left his memoranda on the table,” said Maddy, picking up the papers. “Here is a cutting from an old newspaper, and I’m sure he did not read the whole of it. Here is the slip, with the date of the issue of the paper.” “Read the whole of it, Maddy, out loud. I shall be glad to hear what Wadlaw read again.” 162 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN My friend read the article from beginning to end. It had filled a column and a half. But all the addi- tional information we obtained from it was that the remains of john Gayworthy and his wife had been recovered from the ruins of the falling walls. Many bodies of infants and children had been found; but Mr. Maldrake had been imable to identify that of his grandson. The article went on to state that the remains of john Gayworthy and his wife were on their way to England, and would be consigned to the family vault at Hollo- way. “That settles it !” exclaimed Maddy, throwing down the slip and leaping out of his chair. “Maldrake could not identify the body of his grandson, because the child was not killed.” “In other words, I am the child, and that valet was Milton Brooks, who has passed as my father from that time to this,” I added, as confident as I could be that the mystery had been fully solved. “To be sure you are! And at this moment you are the real Sir Something Gayworthy, for the name of the child is not mentioned in the paper,” declared Maddy. “We have got at it all, and if you are not a baronet now, you will be when you are twenty-one, and come into one of the biggest fortunes in England.” IN SEARCH OF A GRANDFATHER 163 “And then, if not before, I shall be abundantly able to pay you back all the money I owe you,” I replied, laughing. “If you say another word about paying me, I won’t take a penny, under any circumstances,” protested Maddy. “There is many a slip between the cup and the lip,” I reminded. “There are only two persons in the world, if there is more than one, who can identify me. Maldrake may be dead, as Grantham had no doubt he was in his letter. Milton Brooks isstill living, if he has not died since we left New York. But one wit- ness, especially one who has taken part in the rascality, is not enough in a case of such magnitude. Of course, the present Sir Morgan Gayworthy is the principal con- spirator, and he has wealth enough to fight this thing till the end of the world.” “Then, if we cannot find Maldrake, we might as well give it up and go home,” said Maddy, shrugging his shoulders. “That is about the whole of it.” “But I think we shall be able at least to ascertain whether your grandfather is dead or alive.” “My grandfather!” I exclaimed, a little excited at the possibility of having even a single relative. 164 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “I will venture to say that Sir Morgan and Mr. Crayblock keep the run of him if he is alive, which Grantham did not positively deny,” continued Maddy, taking from his pocketbook his copy of the letter. “He says he has not been heard from for ten years, and has no doubt he is dead. I have a doubt. Our mission now is to find Maldrake, and we must wait for any information Wadlaw may bring us.” “That’s so; and we may have to go all over creation to find him,” I replied. “But I am really astonished at the ease with which we have solved the principal mystery.” “It is all in clear daylight now.” “Pallingrove, or Tremble, is Crayblock’s clerk. Probably he is his employer’s only confidant. The let- ters addressed to P. Grantham were left with Mrs. Tremble. It is not likely that Milton Brooks knows Crayblock by any other name.” “I suppose Tremble—I think we had better call them all by their right names now—is following us up from Havre by this time,” suggested Maddy. “N o doubt of it; and by the time he gets to Havre, if he goes there, he will learn that the Sleeper has gone to Southampton. But I don’t believe he will go there, for the paper said that her owner started immediately for England.” . IN SEARCH OF A GRANDFATHER 165 “What’s the odds? Let him follow up his clue,” re- plied Maddy impatiently. “We have got ahead of him, and solved the mystery. We can’t do anything more until we hear from Wadlaw. But we were to look up Mrs. Harriet Shrimp, Gay.” “She is of no consequence now. She is probably a relative of Mrs. Falgood, and might have been of use to us if we had not solved the mystery without her.” We spent most of the next day in the British Mu- seum. It occurred to me more than once that we might be followed, but Maddy said he did not care if there were five hundred detectives on our track, as we had nothing to conceal just then. H But if they find where we are lodged, they may dis- cover that Wadlaw is at work for us, and perhaps they can bribe him to sell us out.” “That indeed,” admitted Maddy, biting his lips. Then he was willing to be cautious; and when we got into our apartments we were confident that no one could have followed us, for there was not a single per- son to be seen in Little Queen Street. On the evening of the next day we were delighted to receive a visit from Wadlaw. ll I am sorry to say that I have not yet been able to find Mr. Maldrake,” said he. “It will take me an- 166 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN other day, and perhaps two, to ascertain where he is; but I have got all that is known of him at the Foreign Office.” “We did not expect you to find him at once,” re- plied Maddy. “Before we go any further I want to say a word about this case. When we know you bet- ter we may tell you all about it.” “That would be the better way for you to do at once,” replied Wadlaw, with the utmost respect. “But when I work for such gentlemen as you are I do what they require without asking any questions. What I said in the first of it was all because you were so young.” “We haven’t grown much older since. There are two sides to every question, and there are two to the case in which we are engaged. For aught I know, there may be detectives shadowing us now,” said Maddy, looking sharply into the eye of Wadlaw. “By this time the other side may know that you are in our employ. They have money enough, and so have we. Bluntly and squarely, they may try to bribe you to sell us out.” “Bribe Buckley Wadlaw to sell out his employers!” exclaimed he, jumping out of his chair. “It can’t be done! There is not money enough in the Bank of England to do it I” IN SEARCH OF A GRANDFATHER I67 “We have the right and justice of the case,” forcibly remarked Maddy. “I don’t mind that. All I have to do is to be faith- ful to my employers, and I have nothing to do with right and justice; but I don’t undertake a wicked job. “We are young, as you suggested, and what I said was only to warn you, for I have not the slightest rea- 77 son to doubt your fidelity. On the contrary, you have done wonders for us. Now what about Maldrake ?” “I am satisfied, and I hope you will know me bet- ter. The Reverend Archibald Maldrake is, or was, a clergyman of the Church of England. He and his wife were missionaries in Turkey. He was a great linguist, and was familiar with the Turkish language, as well as Arabic and half a dozen other languages whose names I don’t remember. “His wife died at the missionary station, and then he went to Constantinople with his daughter, who was a remarkably beautiful young lady of eighteen. The secretary of the British embassy married her, as you know from my former report. “After the death of his daughter Maldrake returned to England with her remains, but went back to his post in a few weeks. He remained with the embassy three- years, when he was taken sick, and had to seek a change of climate. He went to Egypt for a year, and then IN SEARCH OF A GRANDFATHER 169 \ clothing, and after dinner I went to purchase it. Maddy was in such a hurry to consult Mr. Waxall that he de- cided to go on board of the Sleeper alone. It was after five when we parted, and the skipper said he should have time to give the mate all the im- portant information we had obtained before I came on board. He was confident that we should sail for the Mediterranean the next day. I did not readily find the articles I wanted, and it was dark when I took a shore boat at the dock. The boatman knew where the Sleeper lay, but before he had made half the distance to her, a boat, with five men in her, dashed alongside our little craft. Before I suspected any harm, two of the men laid violent hands on me, and dragged me into their boat. I was so astounded that I could make no resistance. Though he was dressed in full sailor costume, I rec- ognized Pallingrove as one of my assailants. 170 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XXI. MY ADVENTURE IN SOUTHAMPTON. Of course, I understood at once that I had fallen into the hands of the conspirators. The boat was a very handsome gig, pulled by two sailors in uniform. I judged, from what I saw, that the boat belonged to a yacht. Pallingrove wore a yacht uniform, and his com- panion, who had assisted him in dragging me into the boat, was dressed in the same style. The latter ap- peared to be over forty years of age, and looked like a gentleman, though he was engaged in a rufl-ianly enter- prise. I was hauled into the stern of the boat, and crowded down upon the bottom. Pallingrove held me by the collar of mycoat, though I made no resistance. It was useless for me to attempt to do anything when my as- sailants had all the advantage. “This will never do,” said the elder ruffian, in a low tone. “The boatman will go to the yacht, and tell those on board what has happened to his passenger.” “Give him half a crown, and send him back to the shore,” replied Pallingrove, looking back at the craft MY ADVENTURE IN SOUTHAMPTON 171 from which I had been taken. “Stop and back her,” he added, sharply, to the two oarsmen. The elder ruffian was fishing in his pockets for the coin his companion had mentioned. As Pallingrove relaxed his hold a little, I straightened up my body so that I could see over the gunwale of the gig. My boatman seemed to be simply astonished at the misfortune which had overtaken me. He was stand- ing up in his boat, and staring at the villains with all his might. Possibly he was thinking that he ought to have collected his fare in advance, for it must have looked to him as though he had lost his job. “I have nothing less than a sovereign about me,” said the elder ruffian. “Don’t give him that. It will only excite suspicion,” Pallingrove objected. Then “Charley” began to fish in his own pockets for the required coin. In his sitting posture he appeared not to be able to reach the bottom of them, and he stood up to find the coin he wanted. The oarsmen had been backing the boat, and the stern touched the boatman’s craft before the rowers checked her headway. “Go back to the dock for another gentleman you will find there,” said Pallingrove, as he reached out to hand the halfcrown to the boatman. “If any one asks you 172 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN any questions, say that the gentleman is going to dine with us on board of our yacht.” H Is that the way you hask a gentleman to dine with you? jerk him out of a boat as you would a heel from the brine?” demanded the boatman, as he slipped the coin into the depths of his trousers pocket. “It’s only a bit of a joke,” replied Pallingrove But I could see that my captors were both perplexed at the words of the boatman. “This will never do,” repeated the elder ruffian. Finding that I did not offer to escape, Pallingrove had released his hold upon me, when he began to search his pockets. I am not a non-resistance individual, ex- cept under the pressure of circumstances, and it seemed to me just then that the time had come for me to do something. I did not allow myself an instant to reflect upon the situation, or even to think that I was only a boy against four men. Pallingrove was still standing up in the stern of the gig. There was just sea enough in this part of the harbor to give the boat a slightly uneasy motion. The elder ruffian was more prudent, and kept his seat at the tiller lines. With a desperate effort, I seized the two legs of Pal- lingrove in both my arms, and, hugging them with all MY ADVENTURE IN SOUTHAMPTON 173 my might near the ankles, I raised myself in the boat, and lifted him from his uncertain foundation. My hold was so near his feet that he could do nothing but top- ple over, and I guided my burden in such a way as to make sure that he went over the gunwale of the gig. He struck the water head foremost, and the last I saw of him was his feet pointing up to the sky. With a long spring I leaped into the water on the side opposite that where Pallingrove had disappeared. I could swim like a fish, and I struck out with the in- tention of widening my distance from the conspirators. If my boatman had been confounded before, he was wide awake now. He grasped his oars and pulled with all his strength toward me. “Here! Pull this way! Save this man!” shouted the elderly ruffian, pointing to the side where Pallin- grove had just come to the surface of the water, a couple of fathoms from the gig. In spite of the halfcrown in his pocket, the boatman paid no attention to the appeal, but continued to pull toward me. In less than a minute I had hold of the bow of his boat, and he helped me into it. “Pull for the Sleeper!” I gasped, out of breath with my exertions. “Never fear me, young sir. I knows which is the bottom dog, and I don’t believe you wants any dinner 174 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN with them coves,” replied the man, resuming his oars, and pulling away from the gig. I judged from the way that Pallingrove tumbled about in the water that he could not swim. The men in the gig pulled to the spot where he was struggling, and assisted by the elder ruffian, dragged him into the boat. I watched the proceedings of the rascals in the gig with intense interest. Though Maddy and I had kept a close watch for spies, we had seen nothing to indicate that any one was on our track. I concluded that the conspirators had been informed of the arrival of the Sleeper at Southampton, and had lain in wait for me. Doubtless the gig had been near the landing on the lookout for me all day. A's to who the elder ruffian was I could form no idea. It might be Mr. Prince Crayblock, Sir Morgan Gayworthy’s solicitor, for aught I knew, though I hardly thought that a London lawyer would personally engage in such an enterprise. It was more likely that he was a detective. The gig and the sailors evidently belonged to a yacht. I asked the boatman if there were any pleasure craft in the harbor. He informed me that there were two steam and three sailing yachts at or near the port, MY ADVENTURE IN SOUTHAMPTON 175 He was unable to tell me to whom they belonged. The two steamers were more than a mile down the bay. “You were too much for them coves as wanted to rob you,” said the boatman, when he had put a safe distance between me and my assailants. “They did not mean to rob me,” I replied. “The fellow I threw overboard has been following me for months, and you have rendered me a greater service than you can understand. Here is a sovereign for you.” ll Thank your honor; but I did not stand by you for the sake of the money. Them chaps is wicked,” he answered, putting the gold coin in his pocket. “It’s all right. Now I want to know to what yacht that gig belongs,” I replied. “I’ll follow the gig and tell your honor all about it,” said the boatman. I had not lost sight of the ruffians’ boat, which re- mained at rest at the place where Pallingrove had been rescued, though it was too dark for me to see what was going on in her. It was clear enough that the villains intended to get possession of me at any hazard. I had certainly had a very narrow escape. If they had succeeded in getting me on board of the yacht to which the gig belonged, 176 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN I might have been dropped into the sea by accident, or disposed of in some other manner. At last the gig began to move, and though I was wet and shivering with cold, I told the boatman to follow it. He did so; but the boat did not approach any ves- sel. We went far enough to see that the four men in it landed at the dock. Pallingrove did not intend that I should ascertain to what yacht the gig belonged. “They will go off to the yacht to which they belong some time to-night. I will give you another sovereign, my man, if you will report on board of the Sleeper what vessel they board,” I said to my boatman. He promised to do it, and I called another boat to take me to the Sleeper. I found Maddy very anxious about me when I went on board, and my wet and shiv- ering condition did not modify his alarm. I went to the cabin and put on dry clothes, and then told my story. THE MAN IN HIS SHIRT SLEEVES I79 I saw my boatman on the watch a little way from the shore. He told me no one had been near the gig, which he kept in sight all the time. But just as he spoke, he declared that a man was lowering himself into it. A few minutes later, it came out from the shore with a single man pulling it. H I am afraid they have got ahead of us,” said Mr. Waxall anxiously. “If Pallingrove and the other man have any yacht in these waters, they will board her down the bay, and go off from some other landing place.” The mate decided to follow the gig, though my boat- man was also performing this duty. Maddy proposed that we should go on shore and en- deavor to obtain some information in regard to the yachts in the harbor and its vicinity. We ascertained that four men had taken a carriage and driven off at a very rapid pace. No one could tell the destination of the vehicle. The night was bright and pleasant, and Maddy would not leave any stone unturned. He went to a hotel and engaged a carriage, sending Louis back to the yacht with the boat. He ordered the driver to follow the road on the east bank of Southampton Water, and to make the best 180 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN speed he could. He went around the docks, and we were soon on the shore of the bay. We passed the anchorage of the Sleeper and con- tinued on our way a couple of miles farther. At this point we saw two steamers at anchor. From the rake of their masts and smokestacks, we concluded that they were the two yachts of which my boatman had spoken. It was useless to go any farther. Maddy had hardly ordered the driver to return to the city before we heard the rattle of a carriage ap- proaching from the south. “Hold on, driver!” called the skipper, not a little ex- cited. “I want to speak to the driver of that carriage.” The man had half turned his team in the road and stopped, with his vehicle obstructing the highway. Maddy and I jumped out as the driver of the approach- ing team stopped at the obstacle in his way. H I ' 77 Good evening, my friend, said Maddy. “Have you had a fare down this way to-night ?” “I did have a fare, and a right down good one, too,” replied the driver, who appeared to be in excellent spirits. “ “How much did you get for the job?” asked the skipper, with easy indifference. “I got a sovereign, and I am in a hurry to get back I‘ ' THE MAN IN HIS SHIRT SLEEVES 181 to spend a part of it. Draw off your horses out of the road,” he called to our driver. “Perhaps you would not object to earning another sovereign,” suggested the liberal skipper of the Sleeper. “Of course I would not.” “Then tell me all you know of the party you brought down here.” “I don’t object to doing that. I brought four men here, all of them sailors. They wore a yacht uniform, and I reckon they belong to one of those steamers OH there,” replied the driver. “Did you hear any names called ?” “Not a name, sir. I didn’t hear them speak a word except to tell me where to drive them.” “Do you know the names of those steam yachts ?” “I do not, sir; I don’t know a thing about them.” “Where did the four men go after they left the carriage?” “They walked down to the waterside, and I didn’t wait to see what they did. It’s little I know about them.” “You have told me all I want to know. Here is the sovereign,” said Maddy, as he handed the gold to the driver. That was easy earned,” added the man, chuckling over his good luck. 182 STRIVING FOR HIS' OWN _ Our driver had hauled his team out of the road, and the other drove off. just at that moment there was a flash of light on the shore. Almost at the same instant there was an- other, a few rods farther down the road. “Those lights are signals to one of those steamers,” said Maddy. “Wait a while for us, driver.” We walked down the road a short distance in order to obtain a better view of the proceedings of the party, whom we had not yet seen. In a few minutes a boat put off from the steamer nearest to the shore, and pulled toward the place where the signals were still burning. They were bengola lights, and by the bright flame they gave out we tried to discover where the four men were. They were not to be seen, and we continued on our walk. Presently we saw a man coming leisurely to- ward us. His head was uncovered, and he wore no coat. He appeared not to see Maddy and me, and stopped a couple of rods from us to watch the boat ap- proaching from the steamer. We halted in front of him. “Good evening, gentlemen. What is going on here? Is that steamer landing smuggled goods before she goes up to the city?” said the stranger. ' “Those steamers look like yachts. and they would THE MAN IN HIS SHIRT SLEEVES I83 hardly be engaged in the business of smuggling,” re- plied Maddy. “I’m not so sure of that,” replied the man in his shirt sleeves. “Suppose we go down to the shore, and ascertain what they are about. We can see then what they take into the boat. I am in the custom house, and I feel an interest in such matters.” We followed the stranger down to the water’s edge, and the tide was high, so that it came almost up to the wooded shore. We went by a narrow path through the tall bushes. The boat was approaching a point just below the path. The stranger led the way, and as soon as we were out of the bushes, he made a sudden right-about-face, and threw himself upon Maddy, befring him to the ground beneath him. I realized at once that we had been trapped, and I sprang forward to the assistance of my friend. But before I could do anything more, two men seized me each by one of my arms, and held me fast. A fourth went to the aid of the man in his shirt sleeves. “Hurry him to the boat!” said one of my captors. And I had no difficulty in identifying the voice of Pallingrove. At that moment I was willing to admit that Maddy and I had both been very stupid in allowing ourselves A PRISONER ON THE “OLIVIA” 185 » CHAPTER XXIII. A PRISONER ON THE “oL1v1A.” The steam yacht was a most elegant affair. I judged that she was a vessel of about eight hundred tons. Everything about her was exceedingly fine, and she presented a very handsome appearance. But it occurred to me, as I went on board of her, that she had been built and furnished with my money. I walked up the accommodation steps on the quarter, with Pallingrove still holding the collar of my coat. As I was led upon deck I saw the black smoke pouring out of the smokestack, and I concluded that she was all ready to get under way. The prospect looked very gloomy to me; but if the villains had had the good fortune to capture me twice in the same evening, per- haps my second chance of escape was waiting for me. “My dear Gay, I am more delighted than ever before to see you,” said Pallingrove, when we reached the deck of the Olivia. “I dare say you are, and you appear to have some strong motive for wishing to see me,” I replied, with what cheerfulness I could command. “You seem to be giving yourself a great deal of trouble on my account. 186 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN D But I suppose it would not be in order for me to ask an explanation of the outrages you have perpetrated upon me.” “It is perfectly in order for you to ask an explana- tion, but you will admit that we can do as we please about giving it," replied the spy blandly. “Do you intend to hold me as a prisoner?” I replied. “That is what we shall be obliged to do for a time. But we shall not subject you to any hardship. You will have a stateroom in the cabin, and fare as well as any person on board of the steamer,” replied Pallin- grove in a patronizing tone, as he released his hold of me. “We purpose to treat you like a gentleman, though you treated me very shabbily on two occasions.” “If I did, it was your own fault.” “We won’t discuss that matter.” “I suppose you are going to sea as soon as Sir Mor- gan comes on board,” I said. “Sir Morgan!” exclaimed he. And I could see by the light of a lantern near where we stood that he was actually startled. “Who is Sir Morgan?” “Your fellow ruffian,” I answered quietly. “Better use a softer word than ruffian, my dear Gay. Do you know the gentleman you call Sir Morgan?” he asked, with no little anxiety in his look and manner. “I have not that honor.” A PRISONER ON THE “OLIVIA” 187 “Where did you get that name ?” “You were so kind as to give it to me.” “I? Impossible!” “You addressed him as Sir Morgan on shore. As this gentleman appears to be very much interested in my welfare, I should like to know who and what he is?” “You misunderstood me, my dear Gay. I said Sir john Dorgan, and I suppose I cut out the .most of the first name,” said Pallingrove, evidently relieved by my explanation. . “Then I take it this is Sir john Dorgan’s steam yacht ?” ' “You are quite right, my dear Gay. He will be de- lighted to see you in the cabin when he returns on board.” , “Then Sir john Dorgan is the first ruffian and you are the second, Mr. Pallingrove.” “Don’t use hard words; they don’t sweeten anything, my dear Gay.” I only call persons and things by their right names.” “That is a question of taste, and you will do what you like. Now, if you please, we will walk down into the cabin,” continued Pallingrove, as he passed his arm through mine and conducted me to the companionway. 188 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN We descended the steps and entered the cabin. It was brilliantly illuminated, and it seemed hardly possi- ble that the owner of such a princely craft as the Olivia: could engage personally in such outrages as those in which I had been the victim since sunset that evening. But then he had stolen his title and his wealth, and I could but regard him as a thief of the first water. “I shall_ be happy to show you your stateroom,” said Pallingrove, after we had walked the entire length of the cabin. “I don’t care to see it at present,” I replied, seating myself on a divan at the stern. I was not moved by any impulse on the present occa- sion, but I was considering in what manner I could make my escape from the clutches of the conspirators. As I looked the cabin over I saw a heavy stick secured by a leather loop to the mizzenmast. I supposed it was used for raising the skylights by which the apart- ment was lighted. It was painted and ornamented, and I concluded that it must be made of hard wood. While I was looking at it, and arranging in my mind how I could get hold of it at the right moment, Pal- lingrove opened the door of a stateroom near the stern of the vessel. It was lighted, and I could see that it was fitted up with the same richness as the cabin. “This will be your room, my dear Gay. If you don’t A PRISONER ON THE “ OLIVIA ” 189 wish to go into it at present, come and take a look at the inside of it,” said the spy, with his most cheerful smile. “Thank you; I can see what it is, and nothing bet- ter could be desired. I suppose there is a lock on the door,” I replied. “Certainly there is a lock on the door. How else could a guest secure his own privacy? Come and look into the room.” “No, I thank you. You can inform Sir john Dor- gan that I am entirely satisfied with my room, and he need give himself no uneasiness on my account.” “You must excuse me, my dear Gay, but I must be on deck when the owner comes on board, and I shall have to insist that you take possession of your state- room.” . . “You must excuse me, my dear Pallingrove, if I de- cline to do so,” I answered, rising from my seat on the divan, and walking toward the mizzenmast. “But I beg you will not disturb yourself on my account. I will make myself at home here while you go on deck.” “I think you forget, sir, that you are a prisoner. I really think that I am wasting politeness upon you,” responded Pallingrove, nettled by my replies. “I think you are, and I don’t appreciate your polite- ness,” I retorted, tired of soft words.. 190 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “You will forgive me, then, if I insist upon your entering your stateroom.” “I forgive you, but I won’t do it,” I replied coolly. “Then I shall be obliged to use force.” With these words he came toward me. I snatched the stick from the loop, and retreated to the other side of the cabin, in the hope that Pallingrove would not persist in using force. Pallingrove seemed to be a little startled when he saw me seize the heavy stick, and he paused for a mo- ment. ' He evidently believed he could handle a boy like me, though I had before given him some evidence that I was not without both pluck and muscle. He came to- ward me again, and I brought down the stick, which weighed enough to be of solid oak, upon his head. I devoted all my strength to the blow, and he dropped motionless upon the floor of the cabin. Grasping his form by the shoulders, I dragged it into the stateroom assigned to me, and closed and locked the door. I put the key into ‘my pocket. But I had not yet regained my freedom, though I had struck down my most active enemy. I was still a prisoner on board of the Olivia. I moved toward the companionway at the forward part of the cabin. I listened at the foot of the stairs _ _ _ _ HE oA\IE TOWARDS ME AGAIN.—PLLge 190 A PRISONER ON THE “OLIVIA” 191 for a moment, and decided to walk boldly on deck. If no one noticed me, I would drop into the water and swim ashore, if I could not get possession of one of the boats at the swinging boom. I was about to do so when Sir Morgan Gayworthy descended the stairs. He saw me, and I could not re- treat; but the heavy stick was still in my hand. 192 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XXIV. AN INTERVIEW wrrn sm MORGAN. I Though I had seen him only in the dark, I easily recognized Sir Morgan. This man was my uncle, my only uncle; but he had robbed me of my name and stolen my inheritance. As I have said before, he looked like a gentleman, and I was really sorry he was not one. Of course, I took no stock in “Sir john Dorgan,” but the fiction assured me that the conspirators against me did not intend that I should know I was in the hands of Sir Morgan. I was entirely willing my villainous uncle should keep up the illusion if he chose to do so. “Who are you?” demanded Sir Morgan, as I re- treated a few steps backward when he advanced. “Your most obedient servant,” I replied, bowing with obsequious gravity. “Who are you? Answer my question I” growled the owner of the Olivia, in a loud tone. “I am yours truly. Perhaps you will do me the favor to inform me who you are,” I demanded, lean- ing upon my stick, and bowing. AN INTERVIEW WITH SIR MORGAN I93 “You are an impudent puppy, and I will have you thrown overboard,” said the baronet. “You are another impudent puppy, and that makes a pair of them.” Sir Morgan began to swear, and he did it with a vim that would have been more creditable to an old tar, though it would be very bad taste in either a baro- net or an old salt. 77 _ “I will have you But he suddenly checked himself and stood gazing at me. I could not explain to myself this change of speech to silence, or know why he had so suddenly checked himself. It might have occurred to him at that par- ticular instant that I was the party who had been cap- tured by Pallingrove, or he might have seen some re- semblance between me and his deceased brother, my father, or his deceased sister-in-law, my mother. It made no difference. He stood.staring at me for a minute or two, and his wrath seemed to have evapo- rated. “Where is john?” he asked, in a moderate manner, at last. “Who is john?” was my counter question, more in the tone of a master than that of a prisoner. _ “I mean Pallingrove,” he stammered. 194 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “He is taking a little nap in his stateroom, as he is not used to sitting up so late at night,” I replied, at a venture. “Then you are Gay Brooks, whose acquaintance I am desirous to make?” said Sir Morgan, with a smile. He knew me from the fact that I did not know “john,” and did know Pallingrove, for the spy had evidently been called by the latter name only in New York. “Since you recognize me, may I ask who you are?” I replied. “I am the owner of this yacht, and I am very glad to have you as a guest on board of her,” he replied. “I beg your pardon, but you are not the owner of this yacht. I am her owner, and if you behave your- self better than you have during the earlier part of the evening, I shall be glad to have you as a guest in her cabin.” “Do you really think that you are the owner of this steamer?” “I know that I am! She was built or purchased with my money,” I stoutly insisted. Sir Morgan looked at me, and suddenly became very pale. Did he consider me a lunatic? or did he realize at that moment that he had robbed me of the wealth he had expended upon the Olivia? I could not tell. AN INTERVIEW WITH SIR MORGAN 195 “Give me your name, since you have mine,” I con- tinued. “Then you admit that you are Gay Brooks?’ Y “I do admit it. You have not given me your name,” I added sharply. “I am Philip Greenway, merchant, of Liverpool,” he answered doggedly. “I don’t like to tell a gentleman as well dressed as you are that he lies, but such is the fact. Pallingrove said you were Sir john Dorgan, but he also lied. As you inform me that I am Gay Brooks, I shall take the liberty to tell you that you are Sir Morgan Gayworthy, of Holloway Hall, near Bath, in Somerset. The man staggered to a divan, and dropped upon it. He evidently believed that I knew more than the law allowed. He looked about him, and seemed to feel the need of Pallingrove’s support. just then the steward came into the cabin, and Sir Morgan called him. “Send the steward out of the cabin,” I said to him, in a low tone. “But I want john—Pallingrove,” he replied, with an appealing look at me. “Pallingrove is not in condition to see you just now,” I explained sternly. “Send the steward away, or I shall do it for you.” 196 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “You may leave the cabin, Malcolm,” said he to the man, who promptly obeyed the order. H Now, Sir Morgan, as you have taken the trouble to bring me on board of this vessel, will you be good enough to state your business with me?” I said, placing myself in front of him. “I want Pallingrove before I say anything to you.” “You can’t have Pallingrove, sir. He attempted to lock me up in the stateroom prepared for me, and I knocked him down with this stick, which I am ready to use again if occasion should require it. I am only a boy, but I am not one to be easily disposed of either by you or your hired ruffians.” “You said Pallingrove was asleep.” “It is the same thing. He is insensible. I have been assaulted twice, and made a prisoner. I intend to fight my way through. If you have any business with me, I am ready to attend to it.” it I only wished to see you, and I did not intend to injure you in the slightest degree,” replied Sir Morgan. “You have committed an outrage upon me. It can- not be many hours before you are arrested for it, for my friend will obtain justice for me. If he fails to release me he will appeal to the American minister in London.” AN INTERVIEW WITH SIR MORGAN 197 “I only desired an interview with you, and meant you no harm,” pleaded the baronet. “State your business with me, sir.” “Pallingrove is my adviser, and is in the employ of my family solicitor; and I need him before I say any- thing.” “He is not able to attend upon you. If you can’t say anything in his absence, there is no business to be done. In that case I shall take command of the steamer.” “Take command of the steamer!” exclaimed he, ris- ing from the divan. But a flourish of the club caused him to resume his seat. “My officers will not obey your orders.” “At your command they will; but we will not med- dle with that matter just yet. You have brought me on board of this steamer by force, and I desire to know what you want of me.” Sir Morgan mused a moment. “Your father is Milton Brooks,” said he, at last. “I need not deny it now,” I replied. “Milton Brooks was formerly in my employ,” he continued, and then paused to note the effect upon me. I was tempted to say that Milton Brooks was still in his employ, but I said nothing. “Milton Brooks is a witness in an important suit 198 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN which would largely impair my estate if it should go against me. He is the only living witness, and I pay him an annuity to keep him on the other side of the ocean.” ' This was just the story that Milton Brooks had told me, and he had evidently informed P. Grantham in regard to it. “My father said as much to me,” I replied, in the way of encouragement for him to proceed. “I knew that he had spoken to you about it. _ The important matter with me is to know how much Mil- ton Brooks said to you.” 66 ' ' H He said nothing more to me. “Are you willing to make oath that he did not?” asked the baronet eagerly. Il I am. He simply told me that he was an important witness in a suit, and that he had a pension for staying in New York. He kept his affairs to himself, and would never even tell me where I was born, or say a word about my mother.” “I suspect that he has told you more, and sent you to England to negotiate with the other party in the suit.” “Milton Brooks told me nothing, and did not even know I was coming to England.” AN INTERVIEW WITH SIR MORGAN 199 And I explained very fully my relations with Maddy Fayrthorne. “But I am confident that Milton Brooks is treacher- ous to me; that he has told you more than he ought to have told,” persisted Sir Morgan. “He has told me nothing at all except what I have stated,” I answered. “He never even mentioned your name to me, or said a word in regard to you.” “How did you know my name then ?” demanded the baronet sharply. “I did not know your name till I came to England, and never heard of you before. Of course, everybody in Southampton Water knows that the Olivia belongs to Sir Morgan Gayworthy, of Holloway Hall, Som- erset.” I am willing to admit that I was deceiving him while I spoke the literal truth; but I could not give my case away. I talked with him half an hour longer, and finally I signed a paper he drew up, to the effect that Milton Brooks had told me nothing more than I had stated about the suit, which was a fiction. “What did you mean by saying that you owned this yacht ?” asked the baronet, when he seemed to be satisfied on all other points. _ “That was simply bravado,” I replied. “If you have no further business with me, I wish to be set ashore. A NEW DECLARATION OF WAR 201 CHAPTER XXV. A NEW DECLARATION or wAR. “Don’t let him go! Don’t let him go!” shouted Pallingrove feebly as I began to ascend the stairs. I paid no attention to him, and reached the deck without interference from any one. As I came into the light of the deck lantern I saw a couple of men, who appeared to be oflicers, coming over the side. Maddy Fayrthorne was close behind them. The mo- ment he saw me he rushed into my arms, so to speak. “I am the luckiest fellow in the world, for I did not expect to find you, Gay,” exclaimed Maddy, as he grasped both of my hands. “I was sure the steamer had sailed before this time.” “She would have done so if I had not made it hot for these ruffians,” I replied. “But the fun is all over. Pallingrove has a sore head, and I have satisfied the baronet. Don’t let any one be arrested, and I will ex- plain all. Say it was a mistake.” “What do you mean, Gay P” demanded the skipper of the Sleeper, taken all aback by my words. “Sir Morgan agreed to release me, and all you have to do is to withdraw your charge, Maddy.” zoz STRIVING FOR HIS OWN But the officers were not willing to retire from the Olivia without some explanation, and I led the way to the cabin. I found Sir Morgan explaining the sit- uation to Pallingrove. Of course, the whole enter- prise had been a failure, or the steamer would have sailed two hours before. As I understood it, Pallin- grove was to lock me into a stateroom, and then, as soon as the boat brought off Sir Morgan, the steamer was to get under way. I had upset the plan by upsetting Pallingrove. I had convinced the baronet that Milton Brooks had told me nothing, and signed a paper to that effect. Doubtless I could not have done so if the spy had been present. “It was all a _mistake, gentlemen,” I said to the officers, as soon as we were in the presence of Sir Morgan. Pallingrove lay on the sofa nursing his sore head with both hands, and he did not interfere. “But we don’t understand the case. We were called in to effect the release of a young man who had been feloniously kidnapped on English soil,” said the prin- cipal officer. “I am the young man, and I was released before your arrival,” I interposed. “It was all a mistake, I assure you, and I am will- A NEW DECLARATION OF WAR 203 ing to make reparation for the injury done the young man,” added Sir Morgan, taking up the matter where I had left it. “But what was the mistake?” asked the officer. “A friend of mine in New York has a son who is a lunatic, and he ran away in a yacht. My friend wrote to me to capture him if I could. Unfortunately, I captured the wrong person. These young men came in a yacht, and that fact misled me,” the baronet ex- plained. “As everybody seems to be satisfied, I suppose there is nothing to be done about it. We will leave you on board of.your yacht on our return to the city,” said the officer, turning to Maddy and me. In half an hour we were on board of the Sleeper. Though it was two o’clock in the morning, I had to narrate the events of the evening after I was sepa- rated from Maddy. The skipper and the mate lis- tened with the utmost attention. They agreed with me that my action with the club upon Pallingrove had defeated the conspiracy to carry me off. Maddy related the particulars of his conduct of the intended rescue. He had paid the driver, the offi- cers, and the captain of the steamer with his usual lib- erality. After the explanations were finished Mr. Waxall went on deck and reported that a steam yacht 204 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN was passing on her way up to the city. It was the Olivia, and I concluded that she was going up in order to obtain medical advice for Pallingrove. It was nine o’clock the next morning before we turned out. In spite of myself, I was very anxious about the condition of Pallingrove. If he died from his injury there would be a judicial investigation, which might be prolonged for weeks, thus delaying our search for Maldrake. After breakfast I deter- mined to visit the Olivia and ascertain the condition of the spy. Maddy insisted that he and the mate should go with me, and I did not object. We all put revolvers into our pockets. I took the stick I had brought from the steamer, and my companions provided themselves with canes. With our two seamen at the oars, we reached the gangway of the Olivia. An officer at the head of the accommodation steps declined to allow us on board without the permission of the owner. I sent my name up and it was followed by an invitation to go up the steps. We were re- ceived by Sir Morgan Gayworthy. “Good morning, Sir Morgan,” I began, as soon as I saw the owner. “Good morning, Mr. Brooks,” replied the baronet, A NEW DECLARATION OF WAR 205 with a great deal of embarrassment in his manner. “I was not aware that you were not alone.” “I called to inquire about the health of Mr. Pallin- grove,” I continued. “He is quite comfortable this morning. I sent ashore for a surgeon, who assured me that his injury was not a serious one,” replied Sir Morgan. “I am glad to hear it.” “Come into the cabin, if you please, gentlemen,” continued the baronet, leading the way. We followed him, and found Pallingrove walking up and down the cabin, with his head tied up. He was as polite as usual, and so far as I could perceive he had no hard feeling against me on account of the wound I had given him. “You fooled the baronet, but you can’t fool me,” said he, in a low tone, while Sir Morgan was showing the cabin to my friends. “What do you mean by that?” I asked,_-.- “The paper you signed amounts to nothing, and may as well be put in the fire,” replied the spy. “But it is the truth, and my father never told me a word about himself or my mother, and only said what I admitted in the paper.” “The question is what you know, and not what 206 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN Brooks told you,” added Pallingrove, looking me sharply in the eye. “Know about what? Of the suit in which my father is said to be the principal witness, I know nothing at all,” I replied as smartly as the spy. “Confound the suit!” he exclaimed; but he checked himself. “I don’t know what you are talking about, and until you explain yourself I can say nothing more.” “What is your business in England ?” “I am here with my friend on a yacht cruise.” “VVhen do you return to New York?” “When Captain Fayrthorne gets ready to do so.” “The baronet was a fool to let you go last night.” “He could not help himself, for I would have served him as I did you if he had not done as I directed him to do.” “You have not seen the end of this business yet,” added Pallingrove, with an ominous shake of the head. “Perhaps not, and I may have to use the club again.” By this time the baronet and my friends joined us. We had accomplished the object of our visit, and we took leave of the baronet as though we had been the A NEW DECLARATION OF WAR 207 best friends in the world. Pallingrove had assured me that the battle was not yet over. When we returned to the Sleeper we found Mr. Buckley Wadlaw waiting for us. He had come in response to a telegram sent to him the night before by Maddy. He had nothing further to communicate in regard to Maldrake. Leaving him on deck, we retired to the cabin for a consultation. Maddy had thought he should need the detective in finding me, if the Olivia had sailed when he went down with the officers. As he was not needed for that service, Maddy had quite forgotten that he had sent for him. But a new idea had come to the skipper’s fertile mind. He proposed to send Wadlaw to Constanti- nople to begin the search for my grandfather at once. I heartily approved the plan, and so did the mate. In another hour he was sent ashore with a hundred pounds in his pocket, with directions to start for Constantinople as soon as he could get ready, and he promised to leave London the next morning. A care- ful arrangement was made for communicating with him. A TROUBLESOME PURSUER 209 cidedly. “I should not be at all surprised if the Olivia should run down the Sleeper and sink her—by acci- dent, of course.” “You take a very strong view of the situation, Mr. Brooks,” said the mate. “Sir Morgan’s title and fortune depend upon keep- ing me out of the way. Pallingrove will be richly rewarded for anything he may do to advance the in- terests of his employer.” “That is all clear enough,” agreed Maddy. “Then I think we had better change our plans,” said Mr. Waxall. “We took in provisions and water be- fore you came on board, and we are ready to sail at a moment’s notice.” “What plan do you propose, Mr. Waxall?” asked Maddy. “The Olivia is still engaged in taking in stores and coal. I am of the opinion that we had better get under way immediately. That is the only way to as- certain the Olivia’s intentions. “Then get up the anchor, Mr. Waxall,” said Maddy promptly. Stupanne had steam up in the engine room, and the order was given to set the mainsail. The fore- sail was then hoisted, and the anchor hove short. With the steam windlass all this was done in a very 77 A TROUBLESOME PURSUER 211 drop anchor. If you go on shore, Pallingrove will follow you and dog your steps so that you can do nothing,” said the mate. “It was a capital idea to send Wadlaw to Constantinople. In my judgment, you and Captain Fayrthorne ought to follow him in a few days." “What! go by land ?” said Maddy. “Certainly. The Sleeper will only be a hindrance to you. It may take her a month to get to Constan- tinople, for it is as far as from New York to Liver- pool. As soon as you are gone, I will amuse Sir Mor- gan and Pallingrove with the Sleeper, and keep him from following you by land.” “That’s capital, Mr. Waxall!” exclaimed Maddy. “We will run over to Havre, or some other French port, and send your baggage ashore. We can run in at low tide, when the Olivia cannot follow us at once.” “I like that plan,” said Maddy. “In the meantime, we are not entirely helpless. We draw eight feet of water, and that steamer not less than twelve, and we can go where she cannot.” Of course, we all kept an eye on the Olivia. We had not more than half an hour the start of her. The Sleeper was carrying all sail, including gafl‘-topsails, though she wore none of her kites, for the wind was too fresh for them. 212 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “We are gaining on her,” said Mr. Waxall quietly. “She has not got on a full head of steam yet.” “Perhaps not; but, on the other hand, we are not getting the whole of the breeze in this river. We shall do a great deal better when we get down to Spithead,” replied the mate. “Surely you don’t expect to beat a steamer with sails, Mr. Waxall?” I hinted. “That depends upon the speed of the steamer; and I don’t know how fast the Olivia may be. As it is, we are running away from her.” “They are piling the coal into her furnaces,” said Maddy, “for the black smoke grows thicker and thicker.” In forty minutes we were abreast of Calshot Castle, at the entrance of Southampton Water. After this we got the wind in full force. By this time the Olivia had a full head of steam, and her officers were crowd- ing her to the utmost. “Now we shall soon know what the speed of that steamer is,” said Mr. Waxall, directing a spyglass at her. “We have gained at least two miles upon her since we started.” “But we can’t expect this wind every day in the week,” suggested Maddy. “We don’t need it every day in the week. If it A TROUBLESOME PURSUER 213 will only hold on for a few hours we shall give the Olivia the slip,” rejoined the mate. “But it will not hold on. These southwest winds often blow in a heavy fog from the sea; and if I mistake not there is a heavy pile of it ahead of us, which rolls in through the Solent. We shall be buried in it in half an hour.” “In that case the Olivia will lose sight of us, and we can do anything we please,” said Maddy. “I think you had better pack your traveling bags and be ready to go ashore,” advised Mr. Waxall. “I must get you out of the yacht without the knowledge of Pallingrove.” Tom Blubbs took the helm and Maddy and I went below to prepare for the sudden change in our plans. W e put on our shore clothes and packed our valises. In a few minutes we were ready to leave the Sleeper. When we returned to the deck we found the vessel enveloped in a dense fog. The Olivia could not be seen.” “We could not have asked for anything better,” said Mr. Waxall, rubbing his hands. “But this fog will not last long in this fresh breeze.” “But we don’t know what you are going to do, Mr. Waxall,” suggested Maddy. “We are off Stokes Bay, not more than three miles 214 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN from Portsmouth. In four minutes I shall start the sheets and run into Portsmouth harbor,” replied the mate. “You will land there and take the next train for London. In ten minutes more we shall be where the Olivia cannot see us, even if the fog lifts.” In less than the time stated the anchor of the Sleeper was let go in Portsmouth harbor. At a little after ten that night we were in London. NEWS FROM NEW YORK 215 CHAPTER XXVII. NEWS mom NEW YORK. We had made very minute arrangements with Mr. Waxall for reporting his movements to us, and we were very curious to learn what the Olivia did after the Sleeper had dodged her at Portsmouth. The mate said he should run down to the entrance to the harbor and anchor there where the conspirators could see her. On our arrival in London we went directly to the house of Mrs. Garville, where we were warmly wel- comed. As Wadlaw was not to leave until the next morning, we sent the landlady’s son to inform him that we were in the city and would like to see him the next morning. “I think we may safely trust this man,” said Maddy, after the messenger had gone. “It will not be wise to trust any one, especially when there is no need of doing so,” I replied. “His business is to find Maldrake, and he can do that with- out knowing anything more about our affairs.” I was very clear on this point, and Maddy yielded it after some discussion. The immense interests at 216 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN stake in our enterprise would justify prodigious bribes on the other side, and it was not prudent to subject Wadlaw to any temptation. “There is one thing, Maddy, of which I think we have wholly lost sight,” I continued, as we were pre- paring to retire for the night. “What is that? We have looked over the ground very thoroughly,” answered Maddy, as he paused in the process of disrobing himself. “We have taken it for granted that the other side knows nothing of the whereabouts of the Reverend- Archibald Maldrake,” I replied. “P. Grantham’s letter declares that nothing has been heard from him for ten years.” “That is all nonsense. Do you think, on reflection, that the conspirators would lose sight of so important a witness as Maldrake? If we ever find him, I im- agine there will be as many spies fluttering about him as there were about your house in New York.” “That looks reasonable,” admitted Maddy. “But it is possible that Maldrake is dead.” “Possible, but not probable. If he died, his brother at Brighton would have known it. He is not an ob- scure individual, but a clergyman, and had been an em- ployee of the government.” We went to sleep upon it, but we were called at six 218 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN We remained at Mrs. Garville’s three days, expect- ing a letter from Waxall, but none came. Two days later we saw that the Olivia had called at Portsmouth, but departed again the same day. There was no re- port of the Sleeper, and we concluded that she had not made a port, or had not left Portsmouth. We amused ourselves with watching the front door of No. I9, on the opposite side of the street, when we were in the house. The Olivia had not gone into Portsmouth harbor for nothing, and she would not have left if the Sleeper remained there. But the ob- ject of her visit was soon explained. “There is Pallingrove!” exclaimed Maddy, on the afternoon of our third day in London. “That explains why the Olivia went into Portsmouth.” The spy was admitted by his mother, and her greet- ing of her son was as warm as it had been on the former occasion. Of course his appearance at this time had a meaning, and we spent the rest of the day in building up theories to account for it. “One thing is plain enough to me,” said Maddy, as we sat down to supper. “Pallingrove does not know that we have apartments opposite his mother’s house.” “He would not have shown himself here if he had,” I replied. “I wish we were somewhere else.” “All we have to do is to get out of this house with- NEWS FROM NEW YORK 219 out being seen by Pallingrove, and get to Paris as quickly as we can,” replied Maddy. We decided to start for Paris the next morning, and would have gone that night if we could have got out of the house without being seen by our neigh- bors opposite. It was not dark till after nine o’clock, and it would be daylight by half-past three in the morning. We called Mrs. Garville, and said that we should leave at nine o’clock. Maddy made her a present of a sovereign, though we paid for the food we had consumed besides. _ The postman was to carry our valises out of the street, and when it was quite dark we crept out of the house. We walked a few steps and then surveyed the ground behind us; but there was not a person in the street. Garville had called a four-wheeler and put our baggage into it. We detained the vehicle a few min- utes while the postman went back to see if any one came out of No. 19. As he did not return, we drove to the Charing Cross Hotel, where we spent the night, and left at twenty minutes of eight in the morning. Before we took our places, we looked over all the passengers on the train. When we started, Maddy 220 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN put his head out of the window on one side and I did the same on the other, to make sure that the spy did not jump on one of the carriages at the last moment. We saw nothing of Pallingrove, and we congratulated ourselves on our escape. On the steamer from Dover to Calais we looked the passengers over with the greatest care. There might have been a shadow on board; but if there were we were none the wiser in regard to him. At quarter-past one we took the train at Calais for Paris. By this time we were satisfied that we were not followed. In the station at Charing Cross Maddy had bought the morning papers, and I had procured a copy of the Guardian and several other church papers. We had seen nothing of France before, and we were interested in looking out the window at the scenery. But there was a great deal of sameness about it, and we were soon tired of this amusement. I took up the Guardian and began to read the church news. The paper contained items in regard to clergymen in all parts of Europe. I learned that certain church associations provided for worship in all the principal cities of Europe. Ministers in ill health were sent to places where the climate was beneficial and the labors light. NEWS FROM NEW YORK 221 As I was looking over the items relating to clergy- men living in France, I suddenly leaped to my feet with a yell like that of an Indian warrior. There were no other passengers in the compartment we occu- pied, or I should not have done such an unseemly thing. Maddy was confounded by my demonstration, and sprang to his feet in turn. “What in the world is the matter with you, Gay Brooks? Have you lost your senses ?” demanded the skipper. “ ‘The Reverend Archibald Maldrake preached in the English Church, Rue Marbeuf, in Paris, on Sun- day, june 5,’ ” I replied, reading the item which had excited me beyond control. “By the great jibboom!” exclaimed Maddy, quite as much excited as I had been. “Our man is not dead!” “No, and he is well enough to preach,” I added, reading the item again. “He was in Paris a month ago.” “Perhaps he is there now,” suggested Maddy. “If he is, our work is finished.” “We had better not be too much elated,” I cau- tioned, recovering my self-possession. We discussed the subject till we arrived at Paris at six in the evening. At the Grand Hotel we found a 222 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN letter from Mr. Waxall. It was dated at Havre the day before. He had not seen the Olivia since he dodged her in the fog and went into Portsmouth. He had cruised about the Isle of Wight, in order to allow the conspirators to see the Sleeper. “The mate says in his letter that the wind changed after the Sleeper went into Portsmouth,”_said Maddy. “No doubt the Olivia went out to sea, and not seeing the yacht, went back to Portsmouth. There Pallin- grove discovered that we had come up to London. It was no use to follow the schooner any longer.” A knock interrupted the discussion, and when the door was opened a waiter handed in a telegram for me. It was plainly directed to Gay Brooks, Grand Hotel, Paris, and came from London. I could not imagine who should send a dispatch to me, and I tore it open. It was from our bankers, and I read it with feverish interest: “Cable dispatch from New York directs us to in- form you that your father died this morning, and you are wanted at home.” “Milton Brooks dead !” I exclaimed, sinking heavily into a chair. The news seemed like a knell of hope to me. WE MEET A NEW SPY 223 CHAPTER XXVIII. WE MEET A NEW SPY. “That is stunning news, certainly, Gay,” said Mad- dy, when I had read the telegram. “That takes your strongest witness out of the field, and half your chances are gone.” ' “And I am wanted at home,” I added, wondering who had sent the cable dispatch from New York. “just as we have a good chance to find Maldrake, I must quit the search.” “Even if we should find Maldrake, I am afraid you would not be able to prove your identity with the child that was reported to have been lost,” said Maddy, in the most discouraging tones. ' But I was not quite satisfied in regard to the dis- patch. I could think of no one who would have been likely to send the message. Mrs. Castleton, the housekeeper, seemed to be the only one who would send me the message. I had written her a letter while I was in London, asking her how my father was, but she could not yet have re- ceived it. Till that reached her she could not even know that I was in Europe. WE MEET A NEW SPY 225 “Milton Brooks was better than he had been for years when I left home, and more likely to live a year or two than at any time since he landed in the city.” “But he may have died, for all that. We can easily find out about this matter. I will telegraph our bankers to send the dispatch, or inform us who gave it to them.” In half an hour we had done this; but we received no answer that night. We were exceedingly worried and perplexed about it; but the more we thought of the news, the better we were satisfied that it was false. We had gone to bed the night before very early, and we were up at six o’clock in the morning, taking a stroll about the city. At ten o’clock, while we were at breakfast, a reply to our inquiry came. It was as follows: “Have not dispatch; requested to send news by gentleman of forty-five, who left his address as john White, 8 Margaret Street, Cavendish Square. Look- ing him up.” “I told you so!” I exclaimed triumphantly. “The dispatch is a fraud. The report will come that john White cannot be found.” .“That is the look of the thing at present,” added 226 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN Maddy. “I think we may as well attend to our business, which is to look up Maldrake. He preached at the English Church, Avenue Marbeuf. Of course he is not the regular clergyman, or he would not have been announced as he was.” The skipper took his Bradshaw from his satchel, and proceeded to look for the church mentioned. He soon found that the Reverend G. Gardiner was the in- cumbent of the church, and the first business in order was to find him. We called a carriage and went to Galignani’s, where we readily found the address of the clergyman. We drove to his house and were so fortunate as to find him at home. As we entered the house a gentleman, unmistakably English, passed us in the hall. He was the very image of Mr. Pickwick, as presented in the illustra- tions of Dickens’ works, some of which I had read on the passage from New York. I was sure I should know him again if I saw him among ten thousand. The clergyman received us very politely. One of the first things Maddy did was to make a donation of ten pounds to the fund of the church in which the reverend gentleman officiated, for we had already learned that such gifts were welcomed by ministers with floating congregations. “I have called to obtain any information you may ~ WE MEET A NEW SPY 227 have in relation to the Reverend Archibald Maldrake, who preached a sermon in your church on the fifth of june,” continued Maddy, when the donation had been gratefully disposed of. “This is a little bit singular,” replied Mr. Gardiner, with a smile. “The gentleman who went out as you came in visited me on the same errand.” “Mr. Pickwick ?” I inquired. “The same,” answered the minister, laughing heart- ily. “Did he leave his name ?” asked Maddy. “He did not. Perhaps he was not so anxious to obtain information in regard to Mr. Maldrake as he was to ascertain if any one had called to inquire about him,” suggested Mr. Gardiner. Maddy looked at me and I looked at Maddy. Doubtless Mr. Pickwick was ‘another spy. Perhaps Pallingrove had sent him, knowing that Mr. 'Mal- drake had preached in the church in the Avenue Mar- beuf. This was the thought that came to both of us. “I assured my caller that no one had inquired for Mr. Maldrake, and this seemed to satisfy him. He did not ask anything more about the reverend gentle- man. I concluded that he knew where he was, or that he had no business with him,” continued Mr. Gardi- I'I€I'. 228 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “I infer that Mr. Maldrake is a friend of yours?” said Maddy. “I had heard of him as a missionary and as the interpreter of the British embassy in Turkey, but I never met him till a few days before he preached for me. He has a great reputation as an Oriental lin- guist, and is a very worthy and devoted laborer in the vineyard of the church. Though he informed me that he had an income of a thousand pounds a year, paid to him by the brother of his deceased son-in-law, he continues his ministrations for the church in what- ever city he may be needed.” I had a strong temptation to whistle out loud as an expression of my astonishment. Sir Morgan Gay- worthy, it appeared, paid the venerable clergyman the same income as Milton Brooks. Both of the im- portant witnesses were pensioned by the chief con- spirator. “Is Mr. Maldrake still collecting materials for his history of the Semitic nations ?” I asked, to cover up my surprise. “Ah! I see that you are acquainted with his pur- suits. He is still prosecuting his studies with great diligence,” replied Mr. Gardiner. “He is a very learned man, and his work will be a great addition to the literature of the world.” 230 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XXIX. MADDY INTERVIEWS MR. PICKWICK. Maddy and I hastened back to the hotel, and re- tired to our room for a consultation. Both of us were very much elated at the success which had at- tended our visit to the clergyman. We had a definite clue to Maldrake, and we were sure to find him. ' “But it appears that your grandfather is a pen- sioner of Sir Morgan Gayworthy,” said Maddy, when we had rehearsed the events of the morning, with no little disgust in his tone and manner. “I don’t apprehend that the pension will make any difference with Mr. Maldrake,” I replied, with some anxiety. “He is a high-minded man, according to Mr. Gardiner’s statement.” “Do you suppose he will be able to recognize you, after you have grown from a baby to a stout young fellow of seventeen?” “I don’t know; and we certainly need Milton Brooks to make a sure thing of it.” “And Milton Brooks may be bribed by the other conspirators to be silent when he ought to speak. He MADDY INTERVIEWS MR. PICKWICK 231 is not a high-minded man, whatever Mr. Maldrake may be,” replied Maddy. “I hope my grandfather will be able to identify me. But I think Milton Brooks will break down when we place the information we have obtained before him.” “The next thing we have to do is to communicate with Wadlaw. We want him in Vienna and not in Constantinople,” continued Maddy, taking a paper from his pocketbook. “He was to be at the Hotel Holland, in Cologne, yesterday afternoon, and reaches Leipsic to-night. We must telegraph him there.” Between us we prepared the dispatch: “Maldrake in Vienna. Stay there till we come.” This was directed to the Hotel de Pologne, in Leip- sic. W'e had hardly finished it before there was a knock at the door, and a telegram was handed in: “john White not found. Fear we have been im- posed upon.” It was signed by the bankers. It was good news, and it assured us that the report of Milton Brooks’ death came only from London, and was the work of the conspirators. “I am satisfied on that point,” said Maddy. “The conspirators evidently saw that item in the Guardian MADDY INTERVIEWS MR. PICKWICK 233 day. We seated ourselves in the reading room to look over the papers. _ While we were thus engaged Maddy punched me very decidedly in the ribs, which assured me that something was about to happen. Looking up, I saw Mr. Pickwick enter the apartment. He came in with a very careless air, looked about him for a moment, and then took up a paper. I wondered if he was not a detective in disguise. I knew something about theatrical “make-ups,” and I examined him very carefully. I soon satisfied myself that he wore neither wig nor paint, and was exactly what he appeared to be. I kept one eye on him all the time, and saw that he was watching us. But I was confident that he had not seen us when we en- tered the clergman’s house, for we had been shown into a comparatively dark room before he passed out. He was in the light, and we had a clear view of him while we were in the shade. After looking at the paper a while, Mr. Pickwick threw it down, and by gradual approaches, placed himself in front of a picture just behind Maddy’s chair. He put on his eyeglasses and examined the engraving, and then dropped into a chair. Maddy laid down his paper and yawned as though he was heartily worn out. He saw that the man 234 - STRIVING FOR HIS OWN wanted to speak to him, and he desired to afford him the opportunity. “ll fait beau temps auj0urd’hui,” said Mr. Pick- wick, in a perfectly indifferent tone. “I don’t speak French,” replied Maddy,‘ with an- other yawn, as though he did not care whether school kept or not. “I beg your pardon. I thought you were a French- man,” added Mr. Pickwick, in English. “Do I look like a Frenchman?” demanded Maddy, with some indignation. “No, sir; you look more like an American.” “I am a Hottentot.” “Are you, indeed?” laughed the stranger. “I thought the Hottentots were black.” “I believe they are; but I feel like a Hottentot.” “I venture to say that you are about to undertake a tour of Europe,” remarked Mr. Pickwick, in the most insinuating of tones. “I have taken the liberty to introduce myself to you under that supposition.” “I think you have not yet given me your name,” suggested Maddy. The stranger took a card from his pocket and handed it to the skipper. “ ‘Edward Minturn,’ ” Maddy read from the card. “I am a courier, and I have had the honor of con- 236 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN he left the room. Without saying anything to my friend, I followed him out of the hotel. He went di- rectly to the telegraph office. I had kept myself in the shade while he was talk- ing to Maddy, and I don’t think he saw me at all. He wrote a message at the desk, and when I thought he had about finished it I took my place at his side and began to fumble over the blanks. Of course I kept my eyes open, though I did the best I could to conceal my face. While I was scratch- ing with a pen, so that he could hear the noise of it, I saw that his message was to “john Tremble, 19 Lit- tle Queen Street, London.” Another glance enabled me to read the message, or enough of it to get at its meaning. “They go to London to-morrow morning; death of father.” It was signed “Minturn.” When I had finished this little trick, I considered myself very clever. I rushed back to the hotel, and in fifteen minutes we had departed, bag and baggage. THE REV. ARCHIBALD MALDRAKE 237 CHAPTER XXX. THE REV. ARCHIBALD MALDRAKE. . We went to a small hotel in the Latin quarter. We took rooms for the night, and then returned to the Grand Hotel, for we were confident that Minturn would keep watch of us as long as we remained in Paris. We saw him skulking about the premises as late as six o’clock. In order to keep up the delusion, we dined at the table d’hote, and permitted Minturn to see us enter the grand hall. At seven we looked the hotel over again, and saw nothing of Minturn. Taking the most extraordinary precautions to avoid being followed, such as going through a café into a street in the rear, and changing carriages twice on the way, we reached the small hotel in the Latin quarter. We retained the carriage in which we had come, and, informing the landlady that we were compelled to leave that night, paid for the rooms, and departed for the .Strasburg station. We were still vigilant, and left nothing to chance. When we were seated in the train we were satisfied THE REV. ARCHIBALD MALDRAKE =39 new to us, and that interested us during the day- time. When we arrived at Vienna Wadlaw was at the station to receive us, for we had telegraphed to him twice on the journey. We obtained a dispatch from him at Munich, in which he informed us that he had just arrived, and had already found Mr. Maldrake. Maddy and I both wanted to shout for joy, but we retained our self-possession. Another message was brought to us at Passau, in which we were informed that Mr. Maldrake was about to leave Vienna for Trieste. This dampened our spirits, but we were sure that Wadlaw would follow my grandfather wherever he went. Wadlaw greeted us as old friends on our arrival. He called a hack and got us into it before he would say anything. We went to the Austrian Court Hotel. “Has Maldrake left Vienna ?” I asked, with breath- less eagerness, when we went to our rooms. “Not yet; but he may leave to-morrow. I find he has some one to keep watch of him all the time—a young Englishman, who acts as his amanuensis and private secretary,” replied Wadlaw. “I got ac- quainted with him before I had been in Vienna two hours. I have been here before, and I know the place very well.” 240 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “How did you find Maldrake so quickly ?” asked Maddy. “I went to the English clergyman for information. I called upon him, but he was out, and I talked with the young man. I contrived to have him tell me nearly all he knew about his employer.” “Did you know Mr. Maldrake was a pensioner of Sir Morgan Gayworthy ?” “The young man did not tell me that, but I in- ferred it from what he said. You must see Mr. Mal- drake to-night, if possible. You must induce him to come to your room by strategy, for we must see him when his private secretary is not present.” “Before anything more is done, Mr. Wadlaw, we shall tell you the whole story of our business with Mr. Maldrake,” said Maddy, as we had agreed on the train. In response to the call of my friend, I told my story from beginning to end, producing such papers and memoranda as I had to substantiate it. “I supposed it was something of this sort,” said Wadlaw, when I had finished the narrative. .“Then Mr. Maldrake is your grandfather, and this business will array him against his patron, who gives him a pension of a thousand a year.” “I don’t believe the pension will make any differ- I THE REV. ARCHIBALD MALDRAKE 241 ence with Mr. Maldrake,” I replied. “He is an hon- est man, and he will do his duty under any and all circumstances. Outside of Sir Morgan’s family, he is the only relative I have in the world of whom I have any knowledge, and I am sure he will not fare any worse than now when the property changes hands.” “To make sure of him, we must resort to strategy,” added Wadlaw. “He may not be willing to see you, and if the private secretary knows anything about this affair you will have a score of detectives on your track, and not all of them will be as fair and honest as your humble servant.” “I don’t know what you mean by strategy in a case of this kind,” I replied. “It is not necessary to have you understand it. If you will leave it to me to bring Mr. Maldrake to your room to-night, I will attend to the matter at once,” said Wadlaw. “But you must not do anything wrong,” I added. “If I do, you will not be a party to the wrong, and I will take all the blame upon myself. It is in the power of the private secretary to defeat all your plans.” I dont see how that can be, I replied incredu- lously. THE REV. ARCHIBALD MALDRAKE 243 cleverly in Paris; but the most that can be said of it is that you have only gained a day.” “Well, that day may be the salvation of our cause,” I added. “It may, if you see Mr. Maldrake to-night. Of course Minturn, whom I know very well, telegraphed to Pallingrove in London as soon as he found that you were not at the station the next morning, as you told him you should be. Pallingrove will be in Vienna by to-morrow night, you may depend.” “Isn’t Minturn rather a stupid fellow ?” asked Maddy. “I never say anything against one in the same line with me; but I don’t believe you would have humbugged me as you did him. Certainly, I should never have let any one read a telegram I had written.” “I did not allow him to see my face, and he did not recognize me.” “He should have written the message in his hotel. But it is getting late. Am I to bring Mr. Maldrake to your rooms to-night ?” “Yes; bring him as soon as you can,” I replied. But I did not wish to be _a direct party to any trick he might play ofi‘ on the good man. “We are doing a rushing business just now, Gay,” said Maddy, as soon as Wadlaw had gone. “But I 244 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN think we had better have some supper before the rev- erend gentleman arrives, for we may talk all night.” We went down to the restaurant to save time, though Maddy had taken a parlor, with two rooms adjoining, and was to have our meals in the former. We had scarcely returned to the salon before Wad- law appeared at the door, followed by the Reverend Archibald Maldrake. My grandfather was a venerable and very dignified- looking gentleman, apparently about sixty years of age. His hair was snowy white, and his face was clean shaved. Maddy and I rose from our chairs and saluted him with the most profound deference. He bowed with stately dignity, and looked around the room as he did so. He had the sweetest expression I had ever seen on any man’s face. “Have the goodness to be seated, Mr. Maldrake,” said Maddy, placing a chair for him. “Where is the sick man ?” asked the minister. ' “There is no sick man here, sir,” replied Maddy. “Indeed! Then I have been imposed upon—made the victim of a trick.” He put on his hat without another word, and hur- ried to the door. 246 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN H When my secretary, who always goes with me, was prepared to join me, we were told that it was a contagious disease. I could not stay away from a sick man who needed me, for that reason, but it was not necessary that he should come.” “I am sure that you will forgive me, Mr. Maldrake, for deceiving you when you have heard more about this case," continued Wadlaw. “I have no doubt you have been surrounded by spies for years, and your sec- retary is one of them.” “Spies! My secretary !” ejaculated Mr. Maldrake, evidently startled by the words of the detective. “Why should spies surround me ?” “To keep your grandson from seeing you,” an- swered Wadlaw, with energy. “My grandson! I have no grandson. But I will not remain the victim of a trick, though I have al- lowed myself to be duped. I will leave this house at once,” said Mr. Maldrake, moving to the door. But Wadlaw was too zealous to permit him to pass out of the room. . “Do you mean to retain me by force?” demanded the reverend gentleman, mildly but firmly, as he looked the detective full in the face. “I will call the police.” “We do not intend to detain you by force," I added. “But I entreat you to listen to me for a moment.” EXAMINING THE EVIDENCE 247 “Which is Mr. Brooks ?” asked the old gentleman, in a gentle tone. “I am known by the name of Gay Brooks, but my real name is Gayworthy,” I replied. “Gayworthy,” he repeated, casting a pitying look at me, as though he believed he had fathomed the de- ception which had been practiced upon him. “I am the son of john.Gayworthy, and my mother was your daughter Olivia,” I continued. ' “Young man, what do you propose to accomplish by this piece of deception?” asked Mr. Maldrake, walking up to me and looking intently into my eye. “If you will listen to me, I propose to do justice to the dead and the living,” I replied, as solemnly as my clerical grandfather could have uttered the ex- pression. “For seventeen years you have been the victim of the vilest deception ever practiced upon a human being, and compared with it not much need be said about the little trick which it seems my zealous friend, Mr. Wadlaw, has put upon you to-night. I repeat that I am the son of your daughter Olivia.” “Impossible!” he exclaimed, with more energy than he had before displayed. “If you will kindly listen to me for a few minutes, and find that I donit know what I am talking about, I will not complain if you leave me without another 25o STRIVING FOR HIS OWN in the morning when his mother washed and dressed the boy, and one day I noticed a deep wound on his back, under and close to the left shoulder blade. “There was a plaster upon it at the time. I asked his mother about it, and she told me that the child had fallen over backward upon a sharp stone of the pave- ment in the street. He was just beginning to walk a little, and the nurse was careless about it. “I need not dwell upon this wound, any more than to say that it left a scar about an inch long. Prob- ably it is there now, for sixteen years would hardly efface it.” ' “I am not aware that there is any such scar on my back,” I replied. “Well, it is in a place where you would not be likely to see it,” said my grandfather, with a smile. “johnny was a very active and energetic little fel- 7’ _ low “johnny?” I put in interrogatively. “The child’s name was john, after his father and his paternal grandfather, Sir john Gayworthy. One day, when he was nearly a year old, he climbed from a chair upon the table, when his mother had left him with his nurse. His weight upset the table, and he fell upon the floor. A heavy shade on the lamp, which tipped over, was broken, and the largest piece struck 252 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XXXII. LIGHT CAST UPON DARK SUBJECTS. “You are indeed my grandson!” exclaimed the Rev- erend Archibald Maldrake, when he had hugged me to his heart’s content. Then he dropped into his chair and was overcome by his emotions. He wiped the tears from his eyes, and after a time succeeded in suppressing his agita- tion. He sat looking at me with the most intense earnestness as I stood erect in front of him. “I begin to see the features and the expression of my poor lost daughter in your face,” said the old gentleman, after he had gazed at me for a long time. “It is hard to find the face of the child a year old in the young man of seventeen after sixteen years of separation. But you are my grandson, without the shadow of a doubt. The two scars are enough to prove it.” “I knew nothing about the marks,” I replied, "though I had seen the scar on my arm; but I have felt from the first that you would recognize me in some way. “But I cannot understand how you happen to be in 77 LIGHT CAST UPON DARK SUBJECTS 253 the land of the living. When no trace of him could be found, I was forced to the conclusion that the body of my little grandson was still buried in the débris. During the rest of my stay in Constantinople I watched the ruins when workmen were digging for new structures, but no discovery rewarded my dili- gent seeking. Let me add here that I saw the nurse about a year after the fire, when she was employed in the family of one of the attachés of the embassy. Not more than three years ago I saw her again, and I have no doubt, if she is still living, that she remains in Constantinople." “It may be important for us to find her in the near future,” I said. “But I cannot imagine even now how the child was spirited away, as he must have been,” continued Mr. Maldrake. “Did you see Milton Brooks after the fire ?” asked Maddy. “I did not; and I remember that I asked Sir Mor- gan Gayworthy, when we were about to sail for Eng- land with the remains of my daughter and her hus- band, where he was. He had gone somewhere, but I don’t remember where he said. I understand now that he carried the child away. I should like to know how the matter was rnanaged.” 254 sraivmo FOR HIS own ‘l I have no information in regard to that subject. But I will give you all that I know about the crime of Sir Morgan Gayworthy and Milton Brooks in the order in which the facts came to my knowledge,” I answered. .I first related to him the life I had led up to the time when my eyes were first opened. I then took from my pocketbook the copy of P. Grantham’s let- ter which I had opened by mistake, explaining partic- ularly how I happened to break the seal. I handed the letter to my grandfather, and asked him to read it. He put on his glasses and read it aloud. H They called me dead, when Sir Morgan Gay- worthy sent me a remittance of five hundred pounds every six months,” said the old gentleman, after he had read the letter a second time. “I must say that Sir Morgan was very kind and considerate to me, for I had no claim whatever upon him. He even named his steam yacht after my deceased daughter, and the tender words he uttered in regard to her were very consoling to me.” “After he had robbed your daughter’s son of his name and inheritance, he could afford to be consoling, to name a vessel after the poor lady, and to give you a thousand pounds a' year, or even ten thousand 256 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN its date to a time before Morgan’s father died. The only condition of my receiving the pension was that I should not visit England.” “Exactly so !” exclaimed Wadlaw, who had been a close listener to all that had been said. How long has this secretary been in your employ?” “Nearly ten years,” answered the bewildered old gentleman. i “Has your brother, the Reverend Paulus Maldrake, in Brighton, written any letters to you in that time ?” asked the detective. “Not a single one, I am sorry to say.” “Have you written any to him within that time?” “Not less than twenty.” “But he told me ten days ago that he had not heard from you for ten years. It is as plain as the nose on your face that this secretary destroyed your own and your brother’s letters, for I dare say he had charge of your correspondence ?” “He had, and he wrote most of my letters from rough drafts I made myself. I am bewildered and astonished. _ Why should they wish to cut me off from the knowledge of my brother?” said Mr. Maldrake, very much grieved as the facts became apparent to him. LIGHT CAST UPON DARK SUBJECTS 257 “They wished to have you forgotten in England,” said Wadlaw. “Your death would have been a wel- come event to Sir Morgan any time since he began to pay you the stipend of a thousand a year.” I proceeded with my narrative of the discoveries I had made, giving a full account of the spies who had surrounded me and of the attempts to kidnap me at Southampton. I finished my story, and we continued to discuss the subject till after midnight, when the venerable gen- tleman proposed to return to his lodgings. “My dear grandfather, I must protest against you doing anything of the kind,” I said. “You must never let that private secretary see you again.” Maddy and Wadlaw joined in with me, and de- clared that it was not safe for him to do so. If he met the secretary, the young man, as he called him, though he was thirty-five, might be tempted to murder him. The old gentleman was appalled. “We must get out of Vienna, and set our faces to the westward as soon as possible, and not later than to-morrow morning,” I insisted, with all the eloquence I could command. “If the secretary sees us, he will instantly telegraph to London and Paris that we are A SUDDEN CHANGE 259 CHAPTER XXXIII. A SUDDEN CHANGE. ' The question came up as to whether it would be possible to obtain the books, papers, and clothing of my grandfather without disturbing the secretary. “My parlor and chamber are on the second floor of the house, and Mr. Kildry, the secretary, sleeps on the fifth floor,” said Mr. Maldrake. “He seldom retires till I am ready to do so. If he is a spy in the employ of Sir Morgan, he is faithful to his duty.” “But Mr. Kildry may be sitting up, waiting for your return,” suggested Maddy. “If he is, there will be a light on the lower floor,” replied the old gentleman. We walked to his residence, which was “in the city,” as the old portion of the town is called, and within a short distance of the hotel. Mr. Maldrake pointed out the windows of his apartments, and there was no light in them. It was arranged that he should go in first, and if Mr. Kildry was out of the way, he was to inform us of the fact. As in most of the large apartment houses in Vienna, there was a porter at the door. A SUDDEN CHANGE 261 long journey, and Maddy and I were very nearly used up. On the train we had discussed the future, and ar- ranged our plans, but we stayed three days in Venice to recruit. From Venice Maddy telegraphed to Wax- all that Mr. Maldrake was with us, and directed him to meet us in Paris. From Venice we went to Turin, stopping a day in Milan for rest. In ten days from the time we left Vienna we were at the Grand Hotel in Paris again. By this time we had a perfect contempt for spies, for we had outwitted all of them. Mr. Waxall gave us a warm greeting, and went with us to the salon which Maddy engaged. He was introduced to Mr. Maldrake, and just then it seemed as though our mission in Europe was about ended. “I have not been idle all the ltime since you left,” said the mate. “We had not been in Havre two days before the Olivia anchored near us. Sir Morgan and his family are on board of her, and the baronet paid me a visit soon after her arrival.” “How much family has he P” I asked, somewhat interested in the affairs of my uncle, now that I had won my victory. “He has a wife and three children. Of course, his business on board the Sleeper was to ascertain what 264 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN without any difficulty. I stated my business to him, and directed him to go to the Grand Hotel as soon as he could. “I have two patients here who need immediate at- tention, and I cannot go for twenty minutes,” said he. I found I could not hurry him, and I told him I would leave the carriage at the door for him, and walk back myself. I wrote the name of the patient and the number of the room for him, and he put the paper in his pocket. I had walked only a few steps toward the main street, where I expected to discover a carriage. I saw one standing at the sidewalk a few paces ahead of me, and I thought it possible that I might procure it. As I walked up to speak to the driver, two men sprang out of it and confronted me. ' Before I had time to realize that I was in peril they threw themselves upon me. While one held my arms, and hugged me in a tight embrace, the other tied what seemed to me to be a piece of thick leather over my mouth so tightly that I could not utter a sound. But I had no idea of being captured so easily, and I began a struggle with the intention of shaking off my captors. But all my efforts were useless. The two men lifted me bodily and threw me into the car- riage by main force. A SUDDEN CHANGE 265 Of course I had no difficulty in understanding that I had been captured a third time by the conspirators, and I was right when I declared that we had not achieved the final victory. It was dark, and the street was a rather lonely one._ But there were a few passers on the sidewalk, and a couple of them paused to see what was going on. “An insane man who got away from his keepers,” one of the men said in French. This explanation seemed to satisfy the lookers-on, and the same man directed the driver to go to a certain lunatic asylum. I thought I recognized the voice as that of Minturn; but I was not sure, and it was so dark in the carriage that I could not see their faces. My two captors placed me between them on the back seat. I soon found that they would choke me to death if I attempted any resistance, and I thought it was wise to submit till I had a more favorable oppor- tunity to do something. _ In the midst of my own troubles I was exceedingly glad that I had arranged it so that the physician would go to the Grand Hotel and attend to my friend. I believe I was more concerned about him than I was about myself. This time I could expect no relief, 266 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN for not even the doctor would know what had hap- pened to me after I left his house. After we had gone a couple of miles, as I judged, the man who had spoken to the driver before gave him a new direction. I knew nothing of the localities, and I could learn nothing from it. Soon we stopped again. I was then transferred to another vehicle with two horses, and we started once more. ' At this place my hands were tied behind me, and my ankles bound together. The man who did the talking kept hurrying the driver, and at last promised him ten francs extra if he reached the train in time. We arrived at the station in season, and I was hur- ried into a second-class carriage. I was passed off for a sick man, and not as a lunatic this time. LOCKED UP IN A STATEROOM 267 CHAPTER XXXIV. LOCKED UP IN A STATEROOM. By the light of the lamp in the ceiling of the com- partment I saw the Pickwickian face of Minturn. The other man had not spoken a word that I could hear, though he seemed to be the leading actor in the out- rage perpetrated upon me. I tried to get a look at his face, but he held me so that I could not turn my head. After the train had gone a few miles, the man at my side released his hold upon me. But I was bound hand and feet, so that I could hardly move. The leather gag, which they had covered with a narrow shawl before I was taken from the carriage, had be- come very painful to me. My respiration was much impeded, and I could not help groaning. I could not speak, and I was glad to see that my groans excited the attention of my custodians. Min- turn pulled the shawl down from my nose, so that I could breathe a little better, and then set me up in the corner of the compartment, like a mummy in a museum. I cannot explain how it was, but I went to sleep, 268 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN probably from sheer exhaustion. When I waked it was daylight, but the train was still rushing on its way. Though I was not suffering any severe pain, the cramped position in which I had passed the last five or six hours made me very stiff and uncomfortable. I do not know that I ever felt more miserable, men- tally and physically, than I did on this particular morning. I could not help thinking of poor Maddy, who lay sick on his bed when I left the hotel to go for the doctor. For aught I knew he might be dead by this time. I had before made up my mind not to incur the risk of failure by attempting to escape before a fa- vorable opportunity presented itself. It was useless to waste my strength in trying to do what could not pos- sibly be done. My captors doubtless knew that I had been made a prisoner twice before, and had escaped both times. This seemed to be the reason why I was kept bound and gagged for so long a time. The train continued to move on for two hours longer; but at last the slacking of the speed, the fre- quent whistles, and the increase of the number of houses as seen from the window assured me that we were reaching our destination, or at least entering some large town. LOCKED UP IN A STATEROOM 269 I could turn my eyes, if I could not move my head, and I looked out the window. Minturn sat opposite to me, but the other man kept close by my side, so that I could not see him. I had inferred that I should be carried to England, and it was possible that we were entering Calais. I had seen the place before, and it did not look like it. The train soon stopped. At a gesture from the man at my side, Minturn got out of the carriage, and a. carriage was quickly drawn up near the platform. The other man put the shawl around my neck again, evidently to conceal the gag, and nearly buried the whole of my face in it. Minturn untied my legs, so that I could walk, and then, taking me by the arms, he dragged me out of the compartment, for I was so stiff I could scarcely stand. The associate ruffian kept behind me and pushed me forward. I was hustled into the carriage without any ceremony or delay. As my captors took their places, a policeman stepped up to them and demanded who their prisoner was. My unknown guard handed him a paper, which he ex- amined. He returned it when he had read it, touched his cap with. his forefinger, and the carriage was suf- fered to proceed. I wondered what the paper was, and concluded 270 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN that it was an official document with signatures, per- mitting them to convey an insane person out of the country. _ Minturn directed the driver to proceed to a certain quay, whose name was not familiar to me. As we approached the water, I was confident we were in Havre, though I had only landed there in the night. But the form of the harbor was enough to satisfy me. I was put into a boat with two rowers, and then for the first time I saw the face of my unknown captor. It was Pallingrove! I had more than half suspected this before, and I could see no reason why he should conceal his face from me for so long a time. He had had abundant experience with me in Southampton “Water, and I could not expect him to relax his vigilance for a single instant. Certainly, he had not done so since they had captured me in the street at nine o’clock the eve- ning before. Minturn told the boatman to pull to the steam yacht Olivia, outside the jetties. At the same time Pallin- grove tied my ankles together again, so that if I jumped overboard I was sure to drown. LOCKED UP IN A STATEROOM 271 The rowers gave way, and in half an hour we were alongside the Olivia.. As the boat came about so that I could be conven- iently taken to the accommodation steps, I caught sight of the Sleeper. I wondered if I should ever go on board of her again. ‘ My legs were released once more, and with both men holding me, I was dragged out upon the landing at the foot of the steps. Pallingrove placed himself behind me and crowded me up the ladder. I reached the deck, and my custodians halted. The shawl was pulled from my face and the gag taken from my mouth. This gave me great relief, though my arms were still tied behind me. I looked about me, and the first person I discovered was Sir Morgan Gayworthy. His wife was leaning upon his arm, and he was moving rapidly toward the gangway. “You have been successful this time, john,” said the baronet, as a smile lighted up his face. “No, sir; he has not been successful,” I interposed, with emphasis. . “He and you have made the greatest blunder either of you ever made.” I don’t know why I said this, unless it was because my indignation got the better of my judgment. I had been snatched from what my friends at the Grand 272 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN ' Hotel regarded as a complete victory to become a prisoner on board the yacht of the chief 'conspirator. I was fully in the power of my uncle, or, more prop- erly, of Pallingrove. “You’re a prisoner again, at any rate,” chuckled Sir Morgan. “I am, so much the worse for you,” I replied. H He is too warm to talk reasonably now,” said Pal- lingrove. “I think we had better take him below.” “As you like, john.” “But get under way as soon as possible,” advised Pallingrove. “Now, my dear Gay, will you do me the favor to go down into the cabin? You have been there before, and you know the way. You need not trouble yourself to break anybody’s head this time.” As I could not resist with my arms tied behind me, I walked down the steps into the cabin. Sir Morgan followed us, leaving his wife on deck. He looked and acted as though he was extremely de- lighted at my misfortune, as I have no doubt he was. He appeared like a man who had won a victory. He dropped into an armchair near the after part of the cabin, and‘ lighted a cigar. Pallingrove threw open the door of the stateroom which had been appropriated to my use on the former LOCKED UP IN A STATEROOM 273 occasion, next to the divan where the owner was seated. “I would release his arms, john; he will be safe enough in the stateroom, and we must not use him with unnecessary harshness,” said the baronet. “And he will rip up the first stanchion he sees and break it over my head!” exclaimed Pallingrove. But Sir Morgan insisted; and I was released from my bonds, shoved violently into the room, and the door was locked. 276 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “Will you answer truly a few questions I desire to ask you after you receive the reply ?” asked the baro- net, in a doubtful tone. “I will,” I replied promptly. For I had before concluded, as we had Mr. Mal- drake in our party at Paris, that no more trickery and deception were necessary to carry through my case. “Very well! It is a bargain. Write your mes- sage,” replied Sir Morgan. But I heard Pallingrove protest against the ar- rangement. The message I wrote was as follows: “Sent to Havre for transmission. How is Maddy? Answer to Havre. GAY BRooKs.” I passed the paper through the blind in the door, and looking through the openings, I saw Pallingrove pick it up. I placed my ear at the door, in order to hear what was said. “That will do. He implies by the message that he is not in Havre,” said Sir Morgan, after he had had time to read what I had written. “Call the captain, and direct him to send it to the telegraph office by the purser, who will wait for an answer.” The silence which followed assured me that Pallin- VALUABLE INFORMATION 277 grove had obeyed the order. I went to the port in my stateroom and looked out. Presently I saw a boat pulling toward the jetties, and I was happy in the thought that I should soon hear from my sick friend. By the smell of cigar smoke that came into my room I judged that the baronet was still on the divan near my door. I placed myself at the blind again, for I was curious to hear all that passed between Pal- lingrove and his employer, for he had not yet re- ported the manner in which he had made the cap- ture. “Take a cigar, john,” were the first words I heard. “Thank you, Sir Morgan; I don’t care to smoke be- fore breakfast,” replied Pallingrove. “But I am anxious to learn how you accomplished this little bit of work, for I did not anticipate it. It is a great surprise to me,” said the baronet. “It was a great surprise to me, also, for I hardly 77 expected to succeed in doing the job. “I will add five hundred pounds to your perquisites, john.” H Thank you kindly, Sir Morgan. You are ex- tremely liberal, and if your enterprise does not prosper it will not be my fault.” “But tell me how you brought it about, john. You 278 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN have been sending me that monotonous telegram for ten days, ‘nothing from Kildry,’ till I had lost all hope.” “I have had no chance to telegraph you since yes- terday noon. I was so busy with this little matter. But it was still ‘nothing from Kildry,’ up to the time I left Paris last night.” “But where can Mr. Maldrake have gone?” asked the baronet, in a tone that indicated wonder and aston- ishment. “That is more than I .can say or suspect,” replied Pallingrove. “He sent me a message that Maldrake had left Vienna early in the morning, with a ticket for Trieste, and that he was going to follow him. Since that I have not heard a word from him.” I was inclined to rub my hands with delight when I heard these statements. Sir Morgan and Pallingrove were not yet aware that my grandfather was at that moment in Paris. Kildry did not appear to know that the venerable clergyman left Vienna in the com- pany of any other persons. Wadlaw and I had carried the old gentleman’s trunk into the station, while Maddy had charge of his valise and mine. Doubtless those who saw the old man did not notice us, taking us for porters, or something of that sort. 28o STRIVING FOR HIS OWN culties he encountered in carrying out his plan. He explained that he had written a certificate, as from two doctors, that Gay Brooks was insane, and his cus- todians had permission to convey him to England. I was quite interested in the narrative, and exceed- ingly pleased to learn that nothing was known in re- gard to the present abiding place of Mr. Maldrake. The conversation was interrupted by the call of a steward for the spy to attend to his breakfast. Sir Morgan directed the steward to send a man to me with my morning meal, which I was to eat in my stateroom. The door of my room was opened enough to permit the passage of the dishes; but Pallin- grove was required to stand by until it was locked again. just at this time the telegraph message was handed to me, and I was more delighted with that than with the breakfast. Eagerly I tore it open, with my heart in my throat. “Maddy all right this morning. Where are you? “FAYRrHoRNE.” That was all; but it was enough, since it assured me that my friend had recovered. I was happy in spite of the fact that I was a prisoner, and I ate my break- fast with a hearty relish. I felt decidedly better-in VALUABLE INFORMATION 281 fact, it wonderfully improved my condition, taken with the good news from Paris. In spite of the lock that separated me from my friends, I felt that I had the inside track, and that I had the power to confound and overwhelm Sir Mor- gan and his trusted satellite. SIR MORGAN OVERCOME 283 and the one who had served the conspirators during the last part of the journey. While I was thinking about it, there was a knock at my door. I was told by Pallingrove to pass out my dishes. I did so, and then Sir Morgan asked if I was ready to answer his questions. I replied that I was ready, and that I would not attempt to escape during the interview, if he would unlock the door. Pallingrove protested, but Sir Mor- gan was inclined to have his own way. The door was opened, and the baronet placed a chair at the opening, bidding “john” take a seat within easy distance of him. “Now, Gay Brooks, if that be your name, for im- postors have so many aliases that one doesn’t know who they are ” “My real name is john Gayworthy,” I replied quietly, for I was determined to be cool for the reason that “cold steel cuts best.” “Ah, indeed? john Gayworthy, is it?” rejoined the baronet. But I saw that he was greatly annoyed _ at this assumption on my part. “I thought you were the son of Milton Brooks ?” “I beg your pardon, Sir Morgan, but you did not think so, for you are fully aware that I am the only son of your deceased brother, john Gayworthy.” 284 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “Humph! I regard you as an impostor,” exclaimed the baronet nervously. “You pretend to be my nephew?” “Until this moment I have not pretended to be any- thing. I have not before put forth a claim of any kind,” I replied. “I have not sought your presence. I have not been near you, except when you took forci- ble possession of my body. Will you be good enough to tell me what I had claimed when you kidnapped me in Southampton Water? Can you show me when I made a claim, either verbally or in writing? Did I ever have any communication of any kind either with you or with any of your agents?” By this time Sir Morgan evidently saw that he was “giving himself away” when he declared that I was an impostor. He looked at Pallingrove, as though he expected him to extricate him from his un- comfortable situation. “The very fact of your coming secretly to Eng- land proves all that Sir Morgan alleges,” said Pallin- grove. “You came across the Atlantic on special business, and you have worked in the dark ever since the Sleeper came into the port of Havre.” “Have I made a claim of any kind, john Tremble, either in New York or anywhere else ?” I demanded SIR MORGAN OVERCOME 285 smartly, for I had not as much patience with the spy as I had with his employer. “Why do you call me john Tremble ?” he asked, biting his lip. “Because that is your name, and I knew it as well while you were staying at the Brevoort House as I do now.” ' “You knew my real name !” exclaimed Tremble, as I shall call him now, leaping angrily from his chair. . I saw where the shoe pinched him. He had been acting as a professional spy, and he prided himself on his skill in that capacity. He evidently flattered himself that the darkness had concealed all his move- ments. “I knew your real name as well as I knew that of my reputed father,” I answered, bestowing a dove- like look upon him; for I resolved just then not to waste any indignation upon him. “I knew and un- derstood all your tricks and movements in New York.” “You were not as clever as you thought you were, john,” remarked the baronet, with an obvious sneer. It But I desire to ask you again when I made any claim of any kind, john Tremble, or put forward 286 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN any pretensions ?” I continued, returning to the charge. _ “Of course you made no claim in so many words, but your actions proved that you and Milton Brooks had agreed to make an assault of some kind upon Sir Morgan.” _ “I never even heard of Sir Morgan Gayworthy un- till my arrival in England,” I protested mildly. “But you told me a falsehood when you said that you knew nothing of my relations with Milton Brooks. You signed a paper to that effect,” inter- posed the baronet, taking the document I had signed from his pocket. “How could I know anything about your relations with my supposed father, when I never heard of you? What I said, and the substance of the paper that bears my signature, was that Milton Brooks had told me nothing except that he was a witness in a pretended suit, which I knew was false then, as I do now, though you have repeated the same fiction. There was no suit pending then, and there is none now.” Sir' Morgan was confounded by my replies, as well he might be, considering that he had been _led to sup- pose I knew nothing beyond what Milton Brooks had told me. He was more in the dark than I had sup- posed. 290 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XXXVII. AN ENCOUNTER IN THE CABIN. Though I had only begun to tell my uncle my story, Gayworthy had fainted from sheer agitation and fear. For ten years and more he had been in undisputed possession of the title and estates which belonged to his brother’s son. This period had been long enough to give him entire confidence in his stability as a baronet, and one of the wealthiest men in the United Kingdom. As nearly as I could judge, the sending of spies to New York, Constantinople, and wherever Mr. Mal- drake made his residence, was only a measure of precaution. He had no apprehension of any attempt to throw him out of his title and estate. Doubtless the information sent by john Tremble, that his nephew had gone to Europe, gave him some uneasi- ness. ' The return of the spy to England, and his report of the proceedings at the house of Milton Brooks, had alarmed him, to some extent. Tremble believed that Milton Brooks had told me something he ought not 294 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN cabin, before anything more was said. I halted in front of Tremble, and looked him sternly in the eye. “I did not hear the last part of that remark,” I began; “but I understand it as well as though I had heard it. You have the young cub on board, and Minturn and you will take good care that I do not leave her alive.” ' “But I did not authorize him to make a remark of thisfkind,” the baronet made haste to protest. If there ever was a look of disgust on a man’s face, it was on that of _]ohn Tremble. His employer had certainly “given him away,” and effectually prevented him from denying the use of the words I had added to the portion I heard. “Sir Morgan Gayworthy, you follow the counsels 77 of this villain “Sir!” exclaimed Tremble, placing himself in a. menacing attitude before me. “You needn’t sir me,” I replied firmly. “I am not a particle afraid of you; but I desire to warn you that the slightest demonstration on your part will induce me to use you more roughly than I have yet done.” “Gently, John. Take a seat on my left, and don’t irritate Mr. Brooks; for he has overcome you twice, and I believe he can do it again,” interposed the baro- net. SIR MORGAN IN DEEP DISMAY 299 on such‘ testimony as this ?” demanded the baronet, his face brightening up suddenly. “That is not all; and if I had nothing more than this to make out my case with, I should give it up at once. Wadlaw had done so well in finding the correspondent, P. Grantham, that we employed him in looking up my grandfather, the Reverend Archibald Maldrake. I did not get all that name from the original letter of Mr. Crayblock, you will observe.” I continued with the history of our search for Mr. Maldrake. I named the Guardian as giving me the first information, and described my visit to the clergy- man in Paris. I told my auditors how Maddy and I had fooled Minturn, and how we had found my grandfather in Vienna. “Then you have seen Mr. Maldrake ?” exclaimed Sir Morgan, rising from the divan in extreme agita- tion. “I have seen him, sir. But I think I had better allow you to rest, Sir Morgan, for I warn you that I have not yet reached the most exciting part of my nar- rative,” I cautioned, as I saw that he was nearly over- come by his emotions. “Did you see Kildry ?” asked Tremble abruptly. I paid no attention to the question, but proceeded to relate in what manner Wadlaw had procured the 300 srmvmo FOR HIS own attendance of Mr. Maldrake at our rooms in the hotel, and the method we adopted to convey his bag- gage from his rooms. “But what passed between you while he was at your rooms?” asked the baronet nervously. “He identified me to his own satisfaction as the son of his daughter Olivia, wife of john Gayworthy. For the first time I learned that my name was john Gayworthy.” “He identified you! How could that be when he has not seen you since you were a child of a year old, if at all ?” demanded the baronet. “By my general appearance, and by two scars in different parts of my body, and by the fact that I had been brought up by Milton Brooks in New York,” I replied. “Then Mr. Maldrake is the third person besides yourself who knows all about the story you have told?” said the baronet, frowning and looking angry. “He is, sir.” “The ungrateful wretch!” said Sir Morgan, with emphasis. “I have paid Maldrake a pension of a thousand pounds a year for sixteen years, and he plots treason against me! “But you paid him the pension out of the money SIR MORGAN IN DEEP DISMAY 301 you stole from your brother’s son, Sir Morgan,” I reminded him gravely. “My agents have been stupid and my friends false I” exclaimed Sir Morgan, as he stalked, with shaky step, across the cabin. By this time the steamer was pitching and rolling in the waves of the Atlantic, and it was not easy for a cool man to keep on an even keel. But he was too much excited to sit down or lie down, and, taking the length of the cabin for his parade, he continued to walk for some time, rolling about with the motion of the vessel. ' Tremble appeared to be quite as unhappy as his employer, though perhaps for a different reason. Sir Morgan had said, a few minutes before, that his agents were stupid, and I fancied that this was the spy’s grievance. “It is useless to fight it out any longer,” said Sir Morgan, halting before Tremble. “We are beaten at every point.” “I think we are, Sir Morgan; you have overruled me too many times, and now you see the conse- quence. You insisted that I should treat him gently, and now he has the upper hand of us both. If you retain him as a prisoner twenty—four hours longer you will find a man-of-war in your wake, which will SOME ATTEMPTS TO NEGOTIATE 303 CHAPTER XXXIX. SOME ATTEMPTS T0 NEGOTIATE. With whatever ill feeling I looked upon Sir Mor- gan Gayworthy before, I regarded him with pity as he stood before me and gave up the battle as lost. I thought of his beautiful wife, and the happy children who were still playing on the deck of the steamer. They were not guilty of any wrong, or even knowl- edge of the baronet’s crime; yet they would be called to a full share of the suffering on account of it, if I enforced my rights in full. The baronet had not half the energy or half the de- termination I had supposed, after confronting so many of his satellites. I was utterly astonished to find him ready to give up the fight. I had believed the battle was only about to commence, and that all we had done so far was to prepare for the final struggle. I did not quite understand what he meant by giving it up; whether it was to acknowledge his crime and surrender his ill-gotten possessions, or whether it was to allow the affair to take its course in the courts. “I give it up, john Gayworthy, if that is really 3o4 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN 77 your name, said the baronet, after he had made a couple more strides up and down the cabin. “Have you any doubt that I am john Gayworthy ?” I asked, in the calmest of tones. “I have only your own word for it,” he replied, ap- parently struck with the reflection that he had asked for no proofs of what I asserted. _ “I beg your pardon, Sir Morgan, but I think you have something more than my words to convince you that I am the son of your deceased brother.” “Your statements seem to be true,” he admitted. “They seem to be true because they are confirmed by your own knowledge. You have paid Milton Brooks a pension of a thousand pounds a year to keep me in New York, and to keep me from the knowledge that I was your nephew. john Tremble knew that I was the reputed son of Brooks, and you have his testimony to the truth of what I have asserted.” “Of course, I have been convinced of the truth of your statements, or I should not have given up the contest,” said the baronet. “After your agents have followed me across the ocean, and dogged every step I took on this side, after capturing me three times, it would be absurd for you to raise a doubt in regard to my identification.” “The question is not so much what you or Sir Mor- 306 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN I replied, wishing to test his sincerity, and ascertain what he meant by_ giving it up. “I will do so,” he promptly replied, very much to my astonishment. He went to the head of the steps, and, calling the sailing master, directed him, in my hearing, to return to the port from which we had sailed a couple of hours before. He returned to the place where I was seated. “john Gayworthy, if Mr. Crayblock, my solicitor, were here, I should ask him to make terms with you," said the baronet, standing in front of me. “As he is not here, and cannot be had for some days, I must beg you to confer with his clerk, john Tremble. You and he do not agree very well just now, but I have no other friend at hand, and I hope you will consent.” “Why not attend to the business yourself, Sir Mor- gan ?” I inquired. “I am too nervous and agitated to do any busi- ness.” “I am not ready to make any terms, if that is what you mean; and I shall not be until I have consulted my friends.” “Who are your friends ?” he asked curiously. “Of course, I understand that young Mr. Fayrthorne is one of them.” “He is one, and the others are Mr. Waxall, Mr. 308 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN Brooks, but you cannot. I represent the baronet now, and he does not represent himself,” he began, in a very offensive manner, as I regarded it, under the circumstances. “He who is his own lawyer has a fool for a client.” “john Tremble, I shall not bandy words with you,” I replied. “If you use another offensive remark to me I shall refuse to talk with you. If you have any- thing to propose, state it at once.” “It is not my purpose to say anything offensive to you. In the first place, Sir Morgan and I have al- ready made ourselves liable by bringing you on board of this vessel. Of course, you will not press the case against us.” “What I do will depend on circumstances, and I de- cline to discuss this subject with you,” I answered. “I think this is really the first question in order. You have only to say, as you did once before, that you will not appear against us, and that will be the end of it,” persisted Tremble. “I shall not say that at present.” “You mean that you wish to know what we are willing to do before you abandon the possible inten- tion to prosecute,” continued Tremble, who certainly went to work like a lawyer, though not like a shrewd one. “Perhaps you are right. It cannot be denied SOME ATTEMPTS TO NEGOTIATE 309 that you have some facts and some dangerous wit- nesses, as the baronet, my client, admits, though I do not approve the admission.” “No matter what you approve; I don’t care a straw about that,” I interposed, for I could not stand his arrogance in managing his case. I H As Sir Morgan has made this admission, however foolish, not to say stupid, it may have been for him to do so, I am compelled to acknowledge that, so far, you have the advantage, and it is proper for us to make some reasonable concession. We propose to make a money concession; and what do you say to ten thousand pounds, Gay Brooks ?” “My name is no longer Gay Brooks, and I shall decline to answer to it.” H As you please, Mr. Gayworthy; but what do you say to ten thousand pounds ?” H I say that it is absurd. I regard the mention of such a sum as an insult, and I decline to hear you any further,” I replied, with indignation, as I rose and walked away from him. “I had no intention to insult you, my dear Mr. Gayworthy,” pleaded Tremble, following me. “I beg you to listen to me. I will say one hundred thousand pounds, and that is nearly half a million dollars.” 310 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “That is equally absurd and insulting,” I replied, as I began to ascend the companion stairs. I went on deck; but he was at my heels, begging me to hear him. “I hope you have come to an understanding, john Gayworthy,” said Sir Morgan, joining me. “We have not; and I decline to negotiate with john Tremble,” I replied. “If you wish to ofi‘er anything as a basis for a settlement, I will communicate it to my friends as soon as I see them.” “I told Tremble to offer to divide equally all the property belonging to the estate, leaving me the title,” gasped the baronet. “We will consider it,” I replied. just then a small steamer which had been approach- ing fired a gun across the bow of the Olivia, and she was compelled to stop her engine. LAW ON THE HIGH SEAS 311 CHAPTER XL. LAW ON THE man SEAS. As' I judged when I first saw her, the approaching steamer was a sort of French police boat. She was a small craft, and was so slow that, if the Olivia had not come about, she could never have overhauled her. After the steam yacht had lost her headway, the steamer came alongside of her. I saw that Wadlaw was on her deck; but I did not recognize any other person. A couple of French officers came on board, fol- lowed by the London detective. “Who is in command of this vessel?” said one of the officers to the captain of the Olivia. The inquiry was made in French, and the captain did not understand it. I was about to volunteer to act as interpreter for him, when Wadlaw rushed for- ward and grasped me by the hand. “I am glad to see you, Mr. Gayworthy,” said he heartily. “I was afraid we should not meet again for a long time. But this steamer seems to be re- turning to Havre.” 312 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN “She is, and I have no complaint to make for the abduction,” I answered. “Then there was an abduction ?” questioned the detective. “Don’t say anything about it,” I replied, in a low tone. “Sir Morgan has given up the contest and made me an offer to settle the matter. He ordered his yacht to return to Havre. But how is Maddy?” “He is doing very well, though the doctor wouldn’t allow him to leave Paris just yet.” “Is there any one on board who speaks French?” asked the officer. “I do, and I shall be happy to serve you,” I replied. “A young man who was taken by force from Paris and carried to Havre is supposed to be on board of this vessel,” said the Frenchman. “I am the young man who was supposed to have been taken from Paris by force and to be on board of this steamer.” _ “Then, if you will point out the persons who com- mitted the outrage, we will arrest them,” said the officer. “I have no complaint to make, and should not ap- pear against them. It was done under a misappre- hension,” I said, as lightly as I could. “But you must appear against them,” urged the 314 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN their position. They began to talk together, and at the same time Wadlaw asked me what was to be done. I explained matters to him, assured him I was not in peril, and advised him to return to Paris, and to tell Maddy to come to London as soon as he was able. “I shall wait no longer,” said Captain Bingham; and he ordered the steamer to go ahead. The moment the Olivia began to move through the water, the officers made a hasty retreat. By order of the captain, the fasts from the police steamer were cast off, and she fell astern. ' “Of course, if we go to Havre now, the arrests will be made in spite of all you can do,” suggested Sir Morgan. . “We must not go to Havre, then,” I replied. “I shall ask you to land me at the nearest English port.” After some consultation with Captain Bingliam, it was agreed that we should run into Portsmouth. Sir Morgan renewed the conversation with me in regard to a settlement of the case he had given up. I replied that he had made me an offer, and as soon as my grandfather arrived in London, I would con- sult with him and give him an answer. Until then it was useless to discuss the subject. .1_.._i- 316 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN CHAPTER XLI. THE DIVISION or THE ESTATE. My grandfather was heartily in favor of a settle- ment of the case. Wadlaw was confident that it was the better way. Whether Sir Morgan succeeded in defending his case in the courts or not, he could keep it in the law for years. The claimant was an alien, and it was doubtful if Milton Brooks could be made into a willing witness. After considering all these objections, Maddy ad- mitted that the settlement would make a happy ending to the whole affair. I telegraphed to Sir Morgan that we were ready to meet him in London at the hotel. About noon he came alone, and not with his solicitor, or even john Tremble. ' “Mr. Maldrake, I confess that I am astonished to find you in the array of my enemies after I have paid you a large pension for more than sixteen years,” said Sir Morgan to my grandfather, after we had disposed of all the introductory matter. “Sir Morgan Gayworthy,” I interposed sharply, “I thought we were all friends. If you wish to dig up THE DIVISION OF THE ESTATE 317 the hatchet, we have nothing more to say. You pen- sioned my grandfather with my money, and, in ef- fect, I have paid his stipend.” “I hope we shall be friends, john Gayworthy; but I could not help expressing my opinion,” replied the baronet. “I will not permit a word of reproach to be cast upon my grandfather,” I continued. “He has done his duty. He has chosen to be true to himself in spite of the pension, and he would have obeyed the voice of duty if it had made him a beggar.” Sl I know that he is a good man, and I ask your pardon and his for my hasty words,” said the baronet, in proper humility. “I am satisfied, sir,” I replied. (I 77 And so am I, added my grandfather, extending his hand to the baronet, who had the grace to take it, and seemed to be sincere. ll I have suffered more in the last sixteen years than I can describe,” said Sir Morgan. “I have been in great terror all the time lest the real heir should come, and brand me with the crime I have committed, and deprive me of all the estates of my father. I de- served such a fate. I could not be easy until I had sent spies to watch Milton Brooks and Mr. Maldrake. THE DIVISION OF THE ESTATE 319 nocent wife and children I should not ask any more than a pittance to keep me from the workhouse.” Very likely he felt what he said just then. At any rate, we all realized that the crime had brought its own punishment during the sixteen years it had been concealed. But I reminded him that there was a con- dition to my acceptance of his offer—that the estate should be equally divided. “I am under age, and I shall take my grandfather as my guardian,” I said. “I shall ask him to attend to the division.” “I will pay your share to him without any legal steps being taken,” rejoined the baronet. “But I need ten thousand pounds to pay my ex- penses,” I said, glancing at Maddy. “Don’t bother your head about that, john,” he re- plied, laughing. “I have kept a careful account of all the expenses, and you promised to receive payment if I succeeded in my undertaking.” “I shall not go back on my promise,” declared Maddy. “But, Sir Morgan, may I ask the exact or approximate value of the Gayworthy estate?” “My father’s inventory amounted to something like four million pounds, and the increase in values has made it full five millions,” replied Sir Morgan. 320 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN \ “You will not be a beggar under this arrangement with my friend.” “Certainly not! One-half of it is quite enough, and much more than I deserve.” “Well, john Gayworthy, you are a millionaire at last,” said Maddy. “But what is to become of Milton Brooks ?” “I don’t know,” I replied. “He has never been much of a father to me, as you once said, but we will settle with him when we get back to New York and see how he behaves. He has been faithful to you, however, Sir Morgan, and you ought to continue his pension.” “I will do it if you say so. Here is my check for the sum you desire,” said the baronet, handing me the paper. It was made payable to the order of my grand- father, and the baronet went with him to draw the money. I asked Mr. Maldrake to bring me enough to pay Maddy, and to reward Wadlaw for his faithful serv- ice. I named five thousand pounds as the sum I needed. When they had gone I said: “As soon as my grandfather has settled with Sir 322 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN was five minutes ago, and I cannot refuse a liberal gift." “I don’t want you to refuse it, Mr. Wadlaw; and if you are ever in New York I hope you will look me up, and I will give you an American welcome, which is the heartiest in the world,” I laughed. As we had some weeks on our hands, Maddy and I decided to spend them in traveling a little in Europe, for we had not had time to see the sights for which men cross the ocean. We made good use of our time, and we saw a great deal in that period. Mr. Waxall had taken the Sleeper to Portsmouth, and Maddy had ordered her to Amsterdam, with the intention of going to Norway and Sweden, when a letter came from my grandfather saying that he had finished the business of the division. Mr. Maldrake did not object to the size of the Sleeper, and was willing to go in her. We sailed for New York, and had a terribly rough passage. When we arrived, my first business was with Milton Brooks, and I went to the house on the day after our arrival, taking my grandfather with me. A FINAL INTERVIEW 327 colic? It was signed P. Grantham, and that was a fictitious name.” “I have had many letters signed by him,” admitted Mr. Brooks. “It was in reply to your demand for fifty thousand pounds, and the writer informed you that Maldrake had not been heard from for ten years, and there was no doubt that he was dead.” “Then you opened my letters ?” he said, reddening with anger. ’‘,1 “I opened that one by accident,” and I explained how it was. “But I regarded the circumstance as a special providence, as the means of informing me that I was the victim of an infamous conspiracy.” Then I told the whole story of the case from the time I had opened the providential letter. It took me a full hour to do so, and I thought my grandfather might be getting impatient by this time. I went down and conducted the old gentleman to the office. “Mr. Brooks, I am glad to see you again, and I hope you will live long enough to repent of your sins, and of the part you have taken in this conspiracy against my grandson,” said the venerable clergyman, in the most direct manner. Brooks wiped the perspiration from his brow, and looked at Mr. Maldrake as a guilty man might look 328 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN at his executioner. The appearance of my grand- father in New York was enough to convince him that all I had said was true. “I see that the whole truth has come out, and that it is useless to deny it,” said the culprit. “The time for which Morgan Gayworthy agreed to pay me a thousand pounds a year will expire in less than two years, and I am utterly ruined !” “I should say that you were,” replied my grand- father. “I have saved nothing, and I shall not have the means to buy even a loaf of bread,” groaned the wretched man. “The way of the transgressor is hard,” said Mr. Maldrake solemnly. “I believe you, Mr. Maldrake. I have suffered what I cannot describe. I have been in constant tor- ture from the fear of discovery, and the dread that Morgan would have no further use for me. That time has come, and there is nothing but beggary for me now,” groaned Milton Brooks. “I advise you to return to England,” said Mr. Mal- drake. “I think you have influence enough with Sir Morgan to induce him to pay your stipend as long as you live. One thing is certain: As the guardian of my grandson, I cannot pay you for the treachery to _ _ I sma: THAT THE wnom: TRUTH nas comm oUT.”—Page 328. A FINAL INTERVIEW 329 your master’s only child of which you have been guilty.” Brooks was full of talk. He tried to excuse his conduct. He had been overpersuaded by Morgan, as he still called him, but the good clergyman rebuked him severely for attempting to palliate his crime. In about a week after our arrival he took the steamer for Liverpool. He had occasion to write to me a few months later, and informed me that Sir Morgan had agreed to pay him his stipend on condi- tion that he concealed all the facts within his knowl- edge. After this I never heard from him again. When I left the house that day I saw Mrs. Falgood sitting at a window. She had not learned that her occupation was gone. Possibly her salary was not re- mitted to her as usual on the next pay day, but I never knew or cared what became of her. Maddy Fayrthorne is still my faithful friend. The next year the Sleeper was not big enough for him. I was now quite as wealthy as his father, and together we built a steam yacht of six hundred tons, and Mr. Waxall was transferred to her, with all the ship’s company of the sailing yacht, though a larger crew was employed. At my suggestion Waxall was made the nominal as well as the real commander of the new vessel. 330 STRIVING FOR HIS OWN Captain Blubbs is the first and Louis Digfield the second officer of the Olivia, as we decided to call the steamer, after my mother. She was a beautiful vessel, and we enjoyed a great many extended trips in her, spending the winter in the South on board of her. My grandfather purchased a large house, and we became neighbors of the Fayrthornes, and were on excellent terms with them. Two years after our return from England I had the pleasure of giving Mr. Buckley Wadlaw the Amer- ican welcome of which I had spoken on parting with him, and if ever a man was happy for a month he was. ' I feel as though I had fought my way to the for- tune that crowned my life, with the help of Maddy. I am inclined to be modest, whatever the reader may think of me after reading this egotistical narrative, but my grandfather has said repeatedly that he was prouder of my good character than of the fortune I possess. THE END. OLIVER OPTICS BOOKS _ Lhe Blue and the Gray—Afloat. By Ouvim 0PTI¢- SIX volumes. Illustrated. Beautiful binding in blue and gray. with emblematic dies. Cloth. Any volume sold separately. Price per volume, $1.50. . k b th E . 4. Stand by the Union. é. €;ltl‘il‘n tyhe E?nei?1?':yLines. 5. Fighting for the Right. 3. On the Blockade. 6. A Victorious Union- The Blue and the Gray — on Land. 1. Brother against Brother. 4- 01! $110 5'18“- 2. ln the Saddle. 5. At the Front- s. A Lieutenant at Eighteen. e. An Undlvided Union- “There never has been a more interesting writer in the field of juvenile literature than Mr. W. T. Amuvls, who, under his well.known seudonym, is known and admired by every boy and girl in the country, andgiy thousands who have long since passed the 0unL""’l€S of youth, yet who remember with pleasure the genial, interesting pen that did so much to interest, instruct, and entertain their younger years. ‘The Blue and the Gray’ is a title that is suf. ficiently indicative o the nature and spirit of the latest series while the name of OLIVEn Ornc is sufficient warrant of the absorbing style oflnzirrative. This series is as bri ht and entertaining as any work that Mr. AnAus has yet put forth, and will Be as eagerly perused as any that has borne his name. It would not be fair to the prospective reader to deprive him of the zest which comes from the unexpected by entering into a syno sis of the story. A word, how- ever, should be said in regard to the beauty ans appropriateness of the binding, which makes it a most attractive volume.’ -- Boston udgzl. Woodville St01‘ies. By Ouvrm OPTIC. Six volumes. Illus- trated. Any volume sold separately. Price per volume, $1.25. 1. Rich and Humble; on, Tm: MISSION or BEnTHA GnANT. 2. In School and Out; on, TriE Conquust or RIcHAnn GnANT. 8. Watch and Wait; on, Ti-iii Youuo FuGITIVES. l. Work and Win; on, Noonv NEWMAN on A Cnuisir. 5. Hope and Have; on, FANNY GnANT AMONG THE livn1lms 6. Haste and Waste; on, Trii: YOuNG Pu-oT or LAKE Cl-IAMPLAIN. “ Though we are not so young as we once were, we relished these stories almost as much as the boys and girls for whom they were written. They wen really refreshing, even to us. T ere is much in t em which is calculated to inspire a generous, healthy ambition, and to make distasteful all reading tend» ing to stimulate base desires." -— Fitclzburg Reveille. The Starry Flag Series. By OLIVER Or-rrc. In six volumes. Illustrated. Any volume sold separately. Price per volume, $1.25. 1. The Starry Flag; on, TH! YOuNG FISHEnMAN’ or CAP] ANN. 2. Breaking Away; on, Trim Fon'ruNits or A STuoErrr. 8. Seek an Find; on, Tm: AnVENTunES or A SMAnT BOY. L. Freaks of Fortune; on, HALr nOuNn THE WOnLn. 5. Make or Break; on, THE RICH MAN'S DAuGHTEn. 6. Down the River; 0n, BuCK BnAnrOnn ANn THE TvnArrrs. " Mr. AnAus, the celebrated and popular writer, familiarly known as Ouvna OPTIC, seems to have inexhaustible unds for weaving together the virtues of life; and, notwithstanding he has written scores of books, the same freshness Ind novelty run through em all. Some people think the sensational element predominates. Perhaps it does. But a book fhr young people needs this, ant solong as good sentiments are inculcated such books ought to be read." LOTl'lROP, LEE 6: SHEPARD 00., Boston OLIVER o1'l‘IC 7 _ S BOOKS 161-oatWVestiern Series. ByO1.1vu. On-nu. luslsvd nines. Illustrated. Any volume sold separately. Price PC Volume, $1.25. k Going West; on, Tun Pn:Rn.s or A Poor. Bor. Out West; on, RouG1-lmo 1-r on nu: GnEAT Llumo. 8. Lake Breezes; on, THE CiwxsE or wuE SrLvA1nA. 4. Going South; cu, YAcHTING on Tn: ATLANTIC CoA81'. 5. Down South; on, YAc1-tT AnvzzrrunEs m FLoiunA. 6. Up the River; on, YACHTING on TI-ll MISSISSIPPI. \ "This ls the latest series of books issued by this popular writer, and deals Iith life on the Great Lakes, for which a careful study was made by the autho In a summer tour of the Immense water sources ofAmerica. The story, WIIICQ carries the same hero through the six books of the series, is always entertain ing, novel scenes and varied incidents giving a constantly changing yet alwaya ' I attractive aspect to the narrative. OLIVER rflc has written nothing better. ‘I110 Yacht Club Series. By OLIVER Orrrc. In six volumes.‘ glustrated. Any volume sold separately. Price per volume. 1.25. 1. Little Bobtail; on, Tm: Wiurcx or -raI PxNonsO0I'. 2. The Yacht Club; 0n, T1-in Youno BoA-r Bu1Li>Ens. 8. Money-Maker; ca, Tn: V1cronr or 'rin BAs1L1sx. L The Coming Wave; on T1-iE Tiu:Asun11 or H10! R01 5. The Dorcas Club. on, OUn Gums ArLoA'r. 6. Ocean Born; on, Tim CnuISE or THE Cnuss. “The series has this peculiarity, that all of Its constituent volumes In Indo- sendent of one another, and there ore each story is complete in Itself. Ouvl: PTIC ls, perhaps the favorite author of the boys and ‘girls of this country, and he seems destined to enjoy an endless popularity. e deserves his success, for he makes very interesting stories, and inculcates none but the best senti. ments, and the ‘Yacht Clu ' Is no exception to this ruIe."—JVs'w Haven Yoimml and Courier. Onward and Upward Series. By O1.1vnR Ornc. In six volumes. Illustrated. Any volume sold separately. Prior per volume, $1.25. 1. Field and Forest; on, Tm: Foarvmrs or A FAnMIR. 3. Plano and Plank; on TH1: MISHAPS or A MEc1-1An1c. 8. Desk Ind Debit; on, IrHE CATASTnOPHES or A CLIRK. L. Grlnglo and Crosstroo; on, Tux SEA SwAsin1s or A SAIIAQ. 5. Bivouno and Battle; on, Tm: STnuGGLIS or A Sonnma. 8. Sea and Shore; on, T1-1n TnAMP5 or A TnAVILLE11. “Paul Far-ringford, the hero of these tales, ls, like most of this author‘! Heroes, is young‘ man of high spirit, and of high aims and correct principles, flp caring In t e different volumes as s farmer, a captain, a boo keeper, I solilier, a sailor, and a traveller. In all of them the hero meets with verp exciting adventures, told in the graphic style for which the author is famous.‘ ‘I50 Lake Shore Series. By OLIVER O1-"r1c. In six volumes. \ Illustrated. Any volume sold separately. Price per volume. $1.25. d. Through by Daylight; on, Tn! Youno ENGINIIR or ‘III LAB Snoiuz RA1LnoA-o. Q. Lightning Express; on, Tm: R1vAL Acmlu1n. 8. On Time; on, Tan Youuo CAPTAIN or 'rnI: UcAr¢A S-rzusxl. Q. Switch 08; on, T1-11: WAn or -ruE STunturs. I. Brake U ' on, Tn: YOuNG PzAcnrAxnns. _ 6. Bear ¢£h‘orboar; on, Tan Youuo SKIPPIn or LAB! UcAvoA. "OI-IVIR Ornc is one of the most fascinating writers for youth, and witlul fltof the best to be found in this or any past age. Troops of youn peoalo llngdver his vivid pages; and not one of them ever learned hobo meanfignob q cowardly selflsh,orto yieldtoanyvice from snythingthoyonrsosdtronabll fill-'°—-hvovidau-r Prat. I LOTIIROP, LEE & SHEPARD C0» Boston 8803 Z9300 9LO6 8 _