telegrams, one to Captain Barton and another to the lawyer, Mr. Blake. Paul Drew, who, with Frank Bender and Henry Darby, was at Dick's house, volunteered to accompany him, but our hero said he would run down with Grit, and hurry back, leaving his friends to amuse themselves.
It was rather a dark night, with a promise of a storm, and when the wealthy lad started out he wished that he had not gotten a puncture in his auto tire that day, so that he might have used the car. But he had not had the tube repaired, and the machine was out of commission.
"But we don't mind the walk, do we, Grit?" asked the lad, and the dog whined an answer.
The messages sent, Dick started back home, hurrying along, for the first few drops of rain were falling, and indicated a heavy storm to come. The wind was blowing hard, and, after an effort to keep his umbrella right side out, Dick gave it up, furled the rain-shield, and tramped on through the drizzle, with Grit splashing at his heels.
As the young millionaire turned the corner of a dark street, before emerging into the thoroughfare that led to his house, he collided full tilt into a man who suddenly seemed to jump from behind a tree.
"I beg your" began Dick, contritely, though it was not his fault.
The next instant, and before the youth had a chance to finish his apology, he felt himself seized
