Fred conducted Mr. Sloan to the hotel nearby and saw him secure a good room. Then he was about to retire.

"Hold on a minute!" said the miner. "Come up to my room. I want to talk a little to you on business."

"Certainly, Mr. Sloan."

Reaching the chamber, the miner unbuckled a belt that spanned his waist, and drew therefrom a large sum in gold pieces. He counted out five double eagles--a hundred dollars--and turning to Fred, said: "I want you to keep that money for me till I come back."

"But, Mr. Sloan," said Fred surprised, "why not leave it with your other money? I might lose it."

"I want you to put it in some savings bank in your own name, and, if you need it, to draw out any part of it. I don't want that mean scamp, the landlord, to get a chance to turn you out into the street."

"But I might not be able to pay it back, Mr. Sloan."

"I'll take the risk. I lend it to you without interest for a year, and if you have to use any of it I won't sue you."

"You are very kind! It will make me feel much more easy in mind. I wouldn't mind being turned into the street on my own account, but mother couldn't stand it."

"Just so, Fred. You've got a good mother, and you must look out for her."

"I don't often meet a good friend like you, Mr. Sloan."

"Oh, pshaw! you mustn't make too much of a little thing," said the miner modestly. "I'm only giving you the interest on a hundred dollars."

Fred walked slowly homeward, feeling very cheerful. He hoped he should not need to use any of Mr. Sloan's kind loan, but it gave him a feeling of relief to know that he had a fund to draw from in case of need.

On his way home, in pa.s.sing a drinking saloon, Fred's attention was drawn to two men who came out, arm in arm, both of whom appeared to be under the influence of liquor. Something in the dress and figure of one looked familiar. Coming closer Fred recognized his country friend, Joshua Bascom.

"What, Mr. Bascom! Is this you?"

"Why, it's Fred!" said Bascom stopping short and trying to stand erect.

"Oh, come along!" said his companion impatiently.

"No, I want to see the train boy. Good night, old fellow!"

The other angrily protested against being shaken off, but Joshua dropped his arm, and took Fred's instead.

"How came you with that man?" asked Fred.

"He's a jolly, sociable chap. Wanted to take me to a little card party, but I guess it's too late."

"Did he meet you in the saloon?"

"No; he took me in there, and treated me to three gla.s.ses of milk punch. I guess it's got into my head. Do you think I am--intoxicated, Fred?"

"It looks very much like it, Mr. Bascom."

"I hope they won't hear of it at home. Dad would get the minister to come and give me a talkin' to."

"I hope this stranger didn't get any of your money?"

"No; he wouldn't let me pay for a thing."

"He meant to get the money back. He was carrying you to some gambling house, where he would have won all your money."

"You don't say!" exclaimed Joshua, panic-stricken. "I thought he was a nice fellow."

"Be careful how you trust strangers, and don't go to any more drinking saloons!"

"I won't," said Mr. Bascom, fervently.

"I will take you to your room, and you had better take a good long sleep. If you want to go round, I'll call to-morrow evening, and go to some place of amus.e.m.e.nt with you."

"I think Mr. Bascom had better go back to his farm soon," thought Fred, as he returned from piloting Joshua home. "If he doesn't he is likely to get into trouble."

CHAPTER VII.

FERDINAND MORRIS.

When Ferdinand Morris left the train after robbing Joshua Bascom, as described in the first chapter, he was in excellent spirits. He had effected his purpose, and got off scot free. He walked briskly away from the station at which he got out, and didn't stop to examine the wallet till he had got half a mile away.

When he discovered that it contained only ten dollars, he was filled with disgust.

"What could the fellow mean by coming to the city with only ten dollars in his pocketbook?" he muttered. "It's a regular imposition. It wasn't worth taking. Here I am, stranded in the country, and my ticket of no value, for only ten dollars! I should like to see my rural friend's wo-begone look when he discovers the loss of his wallet, though."

This thought helped to reconcile Morris to the situation. The picture which he had conjured up tickled his fancy, and he laughed heartily.

But his merriment was short-lived. Incidentally he noticed the loss of the ring, and his countenance changed.

"My ring gone!" he exclaimed. "What can have become of it? It was worth fifty dollars at least. I must have dropped it into that fellow's pocket when I took his wallet. That's a pretty bad exchange. What an unlucky chap I am! I am about forty dollars out of pocket."

The satisfaction of Mr. Morris was quite destroyed. There seemed little hope of his recovering the ring, for he could not make known its loss without betraying himself.

"I may as well be going back to New York," he said moodily. "If I meet that fellow again, I must get up some scheme for recovering the ring from him. He is a countryman and I can frighten him into giving it to me. The worst of it is, the ring is not mine, and the owner will make a fuss about it. She is inclined to be suspicious, and I shall find it hard work to explain."

In a house on Lexington Avenue lived a maiden lady, close upon forty years of age, though she called herself thirty-one. Miss Josephine Harden had been left independent through the will of an aunt who had left her the sum of thirty-five thousand dollars. She had been for eight years an humble attendant, subject to the numerous whims and caprices of her relative, but two years since had been repaid by a legacy. Ever since Miss Marden had been looking about for a suitable matrimonial partner. There were some difficulties in the way, for she was thin, long-nosed, and with a yellow complexion. Three impecunious bachelors, lured by her money, had paid her some attentions, but their courage failed at last, and they silently slunk away. At length, however, Ferdinand Morris met Miss Harden, and conceived the idea of marrying her for her money. When he had once got possession of her fortune, he proposed to leave her in the lurch.

Morris was a stylish-looking man, and the spinster received his attentions very favorably. She knew very little about him except that he was in some mysterious business about which he did not speak definitely, except that it required him to travel constantly. Matters progressed until they became engaged. At this point, rather reversing the usual order of things, Miss Marden gave her suitor the ring which he had now lost.

"If we don't marry," she said cautiously, "I shall expect you to give it back."

"Certainly, my dear Josephine," said Morris, "but I shall hold you to your promise."

"You might see some girl younger and fair," said Hiss Marden coyly.

"How could that be?" said Morris with mock ardor, as he bent over her hand and kissed it with secret facial contortions. "Do you doubt my love?"