CHAPTER XXVIII.
CLEARING UP A MYSTERY—CONCLUSION.
As Vorlange uttered his dire threat into Dick's ear, the boy turned pale and staggered against the wall of his prison.
"Wot's that yer sayin?" demanded Jack Rasco, who plainly saw the changed look upon his companion's features.
"It is none of your business, Rasco," muttered the spy. "I told the boy; that's enough."
Dick breathed hard. Part of that mystery of the past was out at last. His father was accused of murder—Vorlange held the evidence against him. Like a flash came back to him several things he had almost forgotten. He remembered how on more than one occasion his father had sent money to the West after a letter had come which had upset him greatly. That must have been hush money, to keep this rascal quiet.
"I—I—do not believe you!" he cried in a faint tone. "My father is as upright as any gentleman in the land."
"Is he?" sneered Vorlange. "All right, if you think so, just drive me to the wall and see."
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