"I must keep out of the way till night," he said to himself. "It won't dofor me to be seen prowlin' round the settlement."

  He retired a mile or two among the hills, and waited impatiently for nightto come.

  "It is lucky that the old man gave me a meal," he reflected, "otherwise Ishould be about starved. I wonder if that watch is worth much."

  He examined the watch, and decided that its value was probably not farfrom a hundred dollars. In fact, the old man had bought it in St. Louis,and had selected a high-priced article.

  It did occur to Burns that perhaps he had better remain satisfied withwhat he had got, for the watch would probably bring him fifty dollars at asacrifice sale; but the temptation to stay was too strong.

  "It would be a sin to give up such a fine chance," he reflected. "There'snext to no risk, and I may get two hundred dollars."

  Then he began to consider what he would do in that case. He decided thathe would go to San Francisco, and see what pickings he could find there.

  He had already found out that mining men and others in the far West weremore careless about their money than those in the East, probably becausemoney came easier.

  "I did well when I came out here," he said to himself in a tone ofcongratulation. "I'll make hay while the sun shines."

  Meanwhile, though he did not know it, his visit was expected, andpreparations were being made to receive him.

  After supper Luke Robbins came to the store and held a conference withErnest.

  "I am going to pass the night with you, lad," he said.

  "I wish you would, Luke."

  "I want to help you do the honors to my old friend Burns."

  "Perhaps he won't call."

  "If he knows what's best for him he won't, but he will be like the foolishmoth, and won't be contented till he has singed his wings. I will lookabout me and see where to bestow myself for the night."

  Ernest occupied a bed in the rear of the store, just behind one of thecounters. It was near a window in the rear of the building.

  "I'll take that bed, Ernest, and you can find another place."

  "Shall I fasten the window?"

  "No. I am going to make it easy for my friend, Burns, to get in. Whetherhe will find it as easy to get out will be another matter."

  Nothing was said to the miners about the presence of a thief in thesettlement. At that time there was no toleration for thieves. Thepunishment visited upon them was short, sharp and decisive. The judge mostin favor was Judge Lynch, and woe be to the offender who ventured tointerfere with the rights of property.

  Had Luke breathed a word about Burns, half a dozen miners would havevolunteered to stand guard, and would thus have interfered with TomBurns's visit.

  "I want to keep all the fun to myself, Ernest," said Luke. "We'll give hima lesson he won't soon forget. If I told the boys they'd hang him up inshort order. I don't want to take the fellow's life, but I'll give him afirst-class scare."

  It was about ten minutes of twelve when Tom Burns, leaving his place ofconcealment, walked with eager steps toward the mining settlement. The onestreet was not illuminated, for Oreville had not got along as far as that.The moon gave an indistinct light, relieving the night of a part of itsgloom.

  Burns looked from one cabin to another with a wistful glance.

  "I suppose some of these miners have got a lot of gold-dust hidden away intheir shanties," he said to himself. "I wish I knew where I could light onsome of their treasure."

  But then it occurred to him that every miner was probably armed, and wouldmake it dangerous to any intruder.

  So Tom Burns kept on his way. He was troubled by no conscientiousscruples. He had got beyond that long ago. Sometimes it did occur to himto wonder how it would seem to settle down as a man of respectability andinfluence, taking a prominent part in the affairs of town and church.

  "It might have been," he muttered. "My father was a man of that sort. Whynot I? If I hadn't gone wrong in my early days, if I had not been temptedby the devil to rob the storekeeper for whom I worked, and so made myselfan outcast and a pariah, who knows but I might have been at this momentThomas Burns, Esq., of some municipality, instead of Tom Burns, the tramp?However, it is foolish to speculate about this. I am what I am, and thereis little chance of my being anything else."

  So he dismissed the past, and recalled the work he had set for himself.

  Everything was still. In the mining village probably there was not aperson awake. It was like a dead town. Everything seemed favorable to hisdesigns.

  There was the store. He could see it already. And now there was nothing todo but to get in and take the money, which he had no doubt was waitingready to his hand.

  Perhaps he might be fortunate enough to secure it without waking the boy.He hoped so, at any rate, for he was not a desperate or cruel man. He didnot wish to injure Ernest unless it should be absolutely necessary.

  Arriving at his destination, he paused to reconsider.

  He did not expect to enter by the front door. He did not as yet knowwhether there was any other. But at any rate there must be a windowsomewhere, and he preferred to get in that way.

  He walked around to the rear of the store, and there he discovered thewindow. He had been afraid it might be blockaded with shelves, that wouldmake entrance difficult, but fortunately this did not appear to be thecase. He stood at the window and looked in.

  The faint moonlight did not enable him to penetrate the interior very far,but he could make out something. There were goods of various kindsscattered about, and he could just see a recumbent figure on a bed nearthe counter.

  "That's the boy," he said to himself. "I wonder if he is asleep."

  There seemed to be no doubt on this point.

  But for the indistinct light Tom Burns might have thought the outstretchedfigure rather large for a boy. But he only glanced at it furtively.

  The next thing to consider was whether the window was fastened. In thatcase he would have some difficulty, though for this he was prepared,having an instrument by which he could cut a pane of glass, and, thrustingin his hand, unfasten the catch.

  But through some strange inadvertence, apparently, the window was notfastened, and much to his relief he had no difficulty in lifting it.

  He was as careful as possible, fearing lest he might stumble over somearticle, and by the noise betray his presence.

  What if there was a dog inside? This thought brought alarm to the burglar.In that case his visit would probably be a failure. He remembered,however, with a feeling of relief, that he had seen no dog about duringhis visit to the store during the day.

  Now that he had passed through the window, and was fairly in the store, helooked round for the money drawer. He had not seen the safe, or probablyhe might not have entered the store at all, for he was not expert inbreaking open safes, and at any rate it would be a matter of time anddifficulty. So he was looking about when, as he passed by the bed, he felthimself seized by the leg. Evidently the sleeper had awakened anddiscovered his presence.

  Burns got down on his knees and grasped the recumbent figure by thethroat.

  "Lie still, or I'll choke you!" he said fiercely.

  But as he spoke he felt the rough beard of a man, and with dismay herealized that he had tackled a more formidable foe than the boy for whomhe was prepared.

  He felt himself seized with an iron grasp.

  "I've got you, you rascally burglar!" were the words he heard, and gavehimself up for lost.

  "Who are you?" he asked faintly.

  "I am Luke Robbins, and I know you of old. You are Tom Burns!"

  CHAPTER XXXI

  THE ADVERTISEMENT

  If there was anyone of whom Tom Burns stood in fear it was Luke Robbins.When he found himself in the grasp of his dreaded enemy, he grew weak withterror.

  It was no longer a question of successful robbery. It was a matter ofpersonal safety.

  "Well, what have you to say for yourself?" demanded Luke, tightening hisgra
sp.

  "Have mercy on me, Mr. Robbins! Don't kill me!" ejaculated Burns, halfchoked.

  "What did you come here for?"

  "I--I had no money, and----"

  "You thought you could get some here?"

  "Ye-es," faltered Burns.

  "You thought you would be more than a match for the boy. Well, you have noboy to deal with."

  "I know that very well," confessed Burns.

  "How long have you been in Oreville?"

  "I only came this morning."

  "You have improved your time," said Luke dryly. "You have stolen a goldwatch, besides making this attempt at robbery."

  Tom Burns could not deny it, though he was surprised at Luke's knowledge.

  "Hand over that watch!" said Luke in a tone of authority.

  "Will you let me go if I do?"

  "I will make no conditions with you. Hand over the watch!"

  Burns drew it from his inside pocket and handed it over.

  "Humph! So far so good. Now how about that dollar you took to buy eggs?"

  "It is the only money I have, except a few pennies. Please let me keepit."

  "If I tell what you have done to the miners you won't need any moremoney," said Luke grimly.

  "Why not?" asked Burns, trembling.

  "Why not?" repeated Luke. "Because they will hang you to the nearest tree.You won't need to trouble about money matters after that."

  "You won't give me up, Mr. Robbins," pleaded Burns, in an agony of terror."I--I am not fit to die. Besides, I am a young man. I am not yet forty. Iwill turn over a new leaf."

  "It's high time you did. It is a long time since you earned an honestliving."

  "I know it, Mr. Robbins. I have been a bad man, but it is not too late toreform. If you'll let me go I will leave Oreville to-night, and I willnever trouble you again."

  "It isn't me you have troubled. It is the boy. You robbed him, or tried todo it, at Oak Forks, and now you have turned up here."

  "I didn't know he was here."

  "You didn't know I was here, or I think you would have given the place awide berth."

  "I am very sorry for what I did, and if you'll only spare my life, I'llpromise to reform."

  "I haven't much faith in your promises, but I'll leave it to the boy.Ernest, what shall I do with this man?"

  Ernest had come forward, and was standing but a few feet from Luke and hiscaptive.

  "If he promises to reform," said Ernest, "you'd better give him anotherchance, Luke."

  "I am not sure that I ought to, but it is you to whom he has done the mostharm. If you give him over to the miners we shall never be troubled by himagain."

  Tom Burns turned pale, for he knew that life and death were in thebalance, and that those two--Luke and the boy--were to decide his fate.

  Ernest could not help pitying the trembling wretch. He was naturallykind-hearted, and at that moment he felt that he could forgive Burns allthat he had done.

  "Since you have left it to me, Luke," he said, "let him go."

  "It shall be as you say, Ernest."

  As he spoke he released his hold, and Tom Burns stood erect. He breathed adeep sigh of relief.

  "May I go?" he asked submissively.

  "Yes."

  Before leaving he turned to Ernest.

  "You are a good-hearted boy," he said, "and I shall not forget that youhave saved my life. If I am ever able to do anything for you, I will doit. You will find that Tom Burns, bad as he has been, knows how to begrateful."

  "I think you mean what you say," returned Ernest. "I hope you will keepyour promise and will turn over a new leaf. Is it true that you arepenniless?"

  "Not quite. This is all I have."

  Burns drew from his pocket a handful of small change--less than a dollarin all--and held it out for inspection.

  "Then I will help you along."

  Ernest took from his pocket a five-dollar gold piece, and offered it tothe tramp.

  "That is more than I would do for him," said Luke.

  "It is more than I deserve," replied Burns, "but you won't be sorry foryour kindness. If ever you see me again, I shall be a different man."

  He passed out of the window, and they saw him no more.

  Luke and Ernest said very little of their night's adventure, but the goldwatch and the Mexican dollar were returned to the man from whom they hadbeen taken.

  Six months passed. Oreville had doubled its population, the mines hadyielded a large sum in gold-dust, and the store presided over by Ernestwas considerably enlarged.

  His services had been so satisfactory that Horace Ames, whose time wastaken up elsewhere, had raised his share of the profits to one-half.

  At the end of six months, besides defraying his expenses, Ernest foundhimself possessed of a thousand dollars.

  "Luke, I feel rich," said he, when his faithful friend came round for achat.

  "You've done better than I have," rejoined Luke. "The most I have beenable to scrape together is four hundred dollars."

  "I will give you a part of my money, so that we may be even."

  "No, you won't, Ernest. What do you take me for?"

  "Mr. Ames has been very liberal, and that is why I have got so much. Idon't feel that I ought to have so much more than you."

  "Don't bother about me, lad; I feel rich with four hundred dollars. Inever was worth so much before, though I'm almost three times your age.And I wouldn't have that but for you."

  "How do you make that out, Luke?"

  "Because I never had any ambition till I met you. I never thought ofsaving money; as long as I got enough to eat I cared for nothing else. Ishould have died without enough to bury me if you had not set me theexample of putting something by for a rainy day."

  "I am glad if I have done you any good, Luke, for you have been a kindfriend to me."

  A week later Luke came into the store, holding a letter in his hand.

  "Here is a letter for you, Ernest," he said. "I was passing thepost-office just now when I was hailed by the postmaster, who asked me ifI would take the letter to you. I didn't know that you had anycorrespondents."

  "Nor I, Luke. I think it is the first letter I ever received. Whom can itbe from?"

  "From some one who knows you are here. It is post-marked St. Louis."

  "Well, I can easily discover who wrote it," said Ernest, as he cut openthe envelope with his penknife.

  He turned at once to the signature, and exclaimed, in great surprise,"Why, it's from Tom Burns."

  "The man who tried to rob the store?"

  "Yes."

  "He has probably written to ask you for some money."

  "No, Luke, you are mistaken. I will read it to you."

  The letter started thus:

  Ernest Ray: You will probably be surprised to hear from me. Let me begin by saying that I have kept the promise I made to you and Mr. Robbins when you let me off six months ago. I have turned over a new leaf, and have been strictly honest ever since, as I promised you I would be.

  I won't trouble you with an account of my struggles to get along. I will only say that I am employed at present as a waiter at the Planters' Hotel, and though I can't save up much money, I am able to live comfortably. But you will wonder why I am writing to you. It is because I have seen your name mentioned in an advertisement in one of the St. Louis daily papers. I inclose the advertisement, and hope it is something to your advantage. I have taken the liberty to write to Mr. Bolton, telling him where you were six months since, and I now write to you so that you may communicate with him also. Yours respectfully,

  Tom Burns.

  The advertisement appended ran thus:

  INFORMATION WANTED.--Should this meet the eye of Ernest Ray, some time residing at Oak Forks, Iowa, he is requested to communicate with Benjamin Bolton, Attorney at Law, 182 Nassau Street, New York City.

  CHAPTER XXXII

  MR. BOLTON AS A HUSTLER

>   When Benjamin Bolton left the house of Stephen Ray with a hundred dollarsin his pocket, it was his clearly defined purpose to find the boy who hadbeen so grossly wronged, and force the present holder of the Ray estate tomake restitution.

  Only a few hours previous he had been nearly penniless. Even now, thoughhe was provided with a sum of money that made him feel comparatively rich,he knew it would not last long.

  He provided himself with a respectable suit of clothing, and took the nexttrain for New York. He had been in the metropolis two or three times inthe course of his life, but knew no one there.

  While other paths might be open to him, for he was a man of education andworldly experience, he felt that he should like to get back into his ownprofession. He flattered himself that if properly started he could makehimself valuable to an established attorney in the way of hunting upcases, and taking part in any legal work that might be intrusted to him.

  But how could he, an unknown man, recommend himself to any lawyer whosestanding and business would make a connection with him desirable? Perhapsin any other business there would be less difficulty in making a start.

  But Mr. Bolton was resolute and determined, and fortune favored him.

  Within thirty miles of the city a stout gentleman of perhaps fifty enteredthe car and sat beside him. He looked like a well-to-do business man, freefrom care, but for the anxious expression on his face. He appeared like aman in trouble who stood in need of advice.