"I'll pay the Nelsons a visit to-night," he said, at last. "I'll face the
boy and his mother alone, and see what they have to say. I am not going to
stand this suspense any longer."

And sneaking out of the house without Percy or the housekeeper becoming
aware of it, he set off on a swift walk for the little cottage by the
lakeside.




CHAPTER XXI.

SQUIRE PAGET'S VISIT.


It was not a very long walk from Squire Paget's elegant mansion on the hill
to the humble cottage occupied by Mrs. Nelson and Ralph, but the squire
made it longer by taking numerous back roads. It was easy to imagine that
he wished to be seen by no outsider in making his proposed visit.

It was nearly eight o'clock when he came within sight of the cottage. He
saw that the lamp was lit in the sitting-room, and near it sat the widow,
reading the latest copy of the county weekly newspaper. Ralph was nowhere
in sight.

"The boy must be upstairs," thought the squire. "Most likely he is dressing
to go out for the evening," he went on, thinking of his own son's ways.
Percy rarely spent an evening at home.

The squire entered the garden by a side gate, and, hurrying to the front
door, knocked sharply.

The loud summons startled Mrs. Nelson, and made her break off abruptly in
her reading. With the lamp in her hand, she opened the door to see who her
late visitor was.

"Good-evening, Mrs. Nelson," said the squire, stiffly.

"Why, good-evening, squire," she returned, in great surprise.

Never before had the great man condescended to visit her humble abode.

"I called on a little matter of business," he added, rather awkwardly, for
he had expected an invitation to enter.

"Indeed! Won't you come in, then?"

"I will."

The squire stepped in, and after closing the door the widow led the way
into the parlor. She placed the lamp down, and offered the squire the
easiest chair in the room. He threw himself into it with a loud ahem, and
dropped his silk hat on a stand near by.

"You came on a little matter of business, you say?" she began,
hesitatingly, as he remained silent for a minute.

"Yes, I did." He cleared his throat again. "Mrs. Nelson, where is your son
Ralph?"

"He has gone to the store on an errand for me. He will be back shortly."

"Mrs. Nelson, do you know that that boy is going to get both himself and
you into a good deal of trouble?" went on the great man, pompously.

"Oh, I hope not, squire," she cried, in alarm.

"If he keeps on, he will end in State prison!"

"Why, what has he done now?"

"I do not refer to any new action on his part. I refer to this post office
affair."

Mrs. Nelson breathed easier. For the moment she had feared some new
difficulty between Ralph and Percy.

"I thought that matter had passed," she said.

"Passed! I rather imagine not, madam!

"I mean so far as my son is concerned. They had him up for examination, and
he was honorably discharged."

"That committee of post office officials didn't know its business," growled
Squire Paget, wrathfully. "It was worse than a lot of old hens getting
together."

"That may be your opinion, squire. It is not the opinion of all the folks,
however."

"Madam, your son had something to do with that robbery!" ejaculated the
great man, springing to his feet. "He cannot fool me, no matter how much he
fools the other Westville people."

"Ralph had absolutely nothing to do with it!" returned the widow, warmly.
"You might as well say your own son was implicated."

"Nonsense! Does Ralph deny that he was seen on the streets of Westville
that night?"

"He went to Dr. Foley's for me. I was sick."

"Was he not seen right in front of the post office directly after the
explosion?"

"He had to pass the post office to get to Dr. Foley's."

"Of course," sneered Squire Paget. "But if he was innocent, why did he not
remain in the crowd instead of leaving in such a hurry inside of a minute
or two?"

"He was afraid I might get worse. Had I not been sick, he would have
remained, without a doubt."

"You don't look very sick now, madam," with another sneer.

"No, thanks to the plaster and the medicine Dr. Foley gave Ralph, I have
quite recovered again."

"Humph!" sniffed the great man, and drew up his lips.

"You do not believe that I was sick, do you?"

"It was a very accommodating sickness, to my mind."

"Why, what do you mean, squire?"

"It gave your son a good excuse to be abroad at that time of the night when
all honest folks are in bed."

"Squire, your words are nothing less than insult!" cried Mrs. Nelson, stung
deeply by his insinuation.

"I am only dealing in facts, madam. I called here to-night to help you keep
clear from trouble."

"You are not helping me now," she replied, cuttingly.

At that moment a merry whistle was heard outside, and a light step ascended
the back stoop.

"There is Ralph; I will let him in," said Mrs. Nelson, and she left the
parlor.

"Squire Paget is here," she said to the boy as he entered the kitchen and
deposited a basketful of groceries on the table.

"Squire Paget! What does he want?"

"Come in and see," rejoined Mrs. Nelson, and she led the way into the best
room.

"Good-evening, sir," said Ralph, respectfully, but with no degree of
warmth.

"We have been waiting for you, young man," said the squire, without
returning the salutation.

"What is it you want of me?"

"He came about that post office affair," put in Mrs. Nelson. "He declares
that you are one of the guilty parties."

Instantly Ralph's eyes flashed dangerously. He felt under no obligations to
the squire, rich as he was, to swallow any insult.

"So you think I am guilty?" he said, as calmly as he could.

"Yes, I do," returned the great man, bluntly.

"What makes you think so?"

"Because you were around the post office," said Mrs. Nelson. "He even
insinuates that my sickness was not real, but was put on so that you might
have an excuse for being out at that time of night."

Again Ralph's eyes flashed. It was bad enough to have insults heaped upon
his own head, but when they touched his mother----

"Squire Paget, you are no gentleman!" he burst out. "You haven't the least
spark of a gentleman in your whole composition!"

"Wha--what----" stammered the village dignitary.

"Oh, Ralph----" began his mother.

"Hush, mother, I will handle him as he deserves. Let me alone."

"You young rascal! What do you mean?" burst out the squire, in a rage.

"I mean just what I say. You may be rich and influential, but you can't
come here and insult my mother, understand that!"

"Why--why, you young vagabond----" spluttered the squire.

For the moment he could not find words to express himself.

"I am no vagabond, Squire Paget, not half as much a one as your son, who
drinks, smokes cigarettes, and keeps company with all sorts of questionable
village sports."

"Stop! stop!" roared the great man. "How dare you speak to me in this
fashion?"

"How dare you insult my mother? If I had an outside witness, I would
prosecute you for libel."

The squire winced. This was an attack he had never once dreamed of. He had
thought to bulldoze the widow and her son, but he was getting decidedly the
worse of the encounter.

"I know what I am talking about," he began, lamely, but Ralph cut him
short.

"So do I know what I am talking about, Squire Paget. You are down on us for
some reason; I have not yet found out what, but I will some day; and you
are doing your best to make endless trouble for us. But I am not going to
stand it. We are poor, but we have our rights as well as the rich."

"You rascal! I'll----"

"I want you to stop calling me a rascal and a vagabond. I might as well
call you a wooden-head, a shyster lawyer, and a lot more."

"Oh, Ralph!" pleaded Mrs. Nelson.

"No, mother, he shall not come here to worry and insult you. I will give
him fair warning now. If he does it again I'll pitch him out of the house."

"You--you," spluttered the squire.

He was so mad he could get no further.

"There is the front door," went on the boy, walking forward and opening it.
"The best thing you can do is to get on the other side of it just as quick
as you can."

The squire was livid. He wanted to say something awful, something that
would crush the fearless lad before him--but the words would not come. He
caught up his silk hat and waved it fiercely in the face of Ralph and his
mother.

"You'll rue this, both of you! Mark my words!" he fairly hissed, and the
next moment he had disappeared into the darkness of the night.




CHAPTER XXII.

RALPH'S NEW SITUATION.


After the squire had vanished Ralph closed the front door and locked it. He
returned to the sitting-room to find his mother pale and trembling. Unable
to stand, the poor woman had sunk back on the lounge.

"Oh, Ralph!" was all she could say just then.

"Don't look so scared, mother," he replied, soothingly. "He has gone now."

"Oh, my boy, how could you?" she went on, half in reproach, and yet
secretly admiring his courage.

"I wouldn't have done it had he not cast a slur on your fair name, mother.
I might have stood what he said against me, but I'll never allow any one to
say one word against you, never."

And the look he gave her out of his honest eyes showed that he meant what
he said.

"But the squire! What will he do now?"

"I don't care what he does. We haven't done wrong, so what can he do?"

"He is influential."

"So is Mr. Carrington, and Bart Haycock, and a half-dozen others that are
our friends."

"He evidently feels certain that you had something to with the post office
robbery."

"He is down on us, mother, just as I told him. I wish I knew why," and
Ralph grew more calm and more thoughtful as he spoke.

"He was not that way when your father was alive. Your father and he were
quite friendly."

"I guess that was only because father did lots of work for him and always
accepted the squire's price. He is very miserly, you know, outside of the
allowance he makes Percy."

"I cannot imagine what brought him here to-night. I fancied the post office
matter was past, so far as you were concerned."

"So did I. I'll tell you what keeps it in the squire's mind," went on
Ralph, suddenly. "He lost a valuable registered letter that was in the
mail. I heard Henry Bott speak of it."

"One that was coming to him?"

"No, one that he had sent out. It was to go in the morning mail. Henry Bott
said the squire wouldn't have lost the letter for a small mint of money."

"What did it contain?"

"He said the squire wouldn't say. It was addressed to some party in New
York, I believe."

"It is strange the squire wouldn't mention the contents of the letter. The
authorities ought to know if they are to trace it."

"So I should think. But Squire Paget said it was strictly private."

"Maybe he imagines you have his letter," mused Mrs. Nelson. "I suppose I am
foolish for thinking so, but I fancied he had something on his mind when
he first began to speak of the robbery."

"You may be right, mother. That would explain why he was so persistent in
getting after me."

"You have not seen Percy?"

"No. I understood from Dan Pickley that he had gone to Chambersburgh for a
few days on a visit."

"Then the squire cannot be influenced by what his son can say."

"No; this is solely his own doings," returned Ralph.

They talked the matter over at some length, but could arrive at no
satisfactory conclusion regarding Squire Paget's bitter enmity. Time must
solve the mystery for them.

Ralph had been out distributing circulars for Mr. Dunham. On the following
morning he went across the lake to put in his last day at the work.

He had thought the matter over, and finding the sporting goods dealer at
leisure, asked him if there was any opening in the store.

"I am sorry to say there is not, Ralph," said Mr. Dunham.

"I am willing to do anything, both in the place and out, if you can only
employ me steadily."

"I know that, Ralph. But the truth of the matter is, my brother has asked
me to take his son in, just for his board and clothing, and I have
consented. I couldn't do less."

"I suppose not, sir."

"If there is an opening, I will let you know. I like you, and I am well
satisfied with the way in which you are putting out the hand-bills."

"You do not know of anybody that needs help?"

The storekeeper thought a moment.

"I do not," he said.

Ralph then told him of the offer he had had to sell novelties on the road
to stationery dealers.

"I would not advise you to go into that, Ralph. It is only those who have
had considerable experience in the line that make even a fair living by it.
The likelihood is that you would make little or nothing for a month or two,
perhaps the first year. Get a regular job if you can, at certain wages."

"That is my idea, sir. I must do something."

"I am sorry I cannot help you at present."

In a few minutes more Ralph was on his way to Glen Arbor, as a fishing
resort a mile above Eastport was called. He was to put in half a day there,
and the balance of the time around Eastport itself. That done, the entire
territory for five miles about Mr. Dunham's store would be billed.

Ralph set out in a very thoughtful frame of mind. He was wondering what the
following week would bring forth. Would he strike other work, or be forced
to remain idle?

Ralph knew a number of fishermen at Glen Arbor, who let out boats to the
summer tourists, and while he was among them he met one, Bill Franchard,
who gave him some information that was a delightful surprise.

"Hallo, Ralph Nelson," sang out Franchard, on seeing him. "What brings you
here?"

"I'm distributing circulars, Bill," returned the boy. "How is the boating
season?"

"Very good just now; better than I expected."

"You haven't got an opening for me?" asked Ralph, quickly.

"Why, ain't you working?"

"This job ends to-day."

"Well, I dunno." Franchard scratched his head. "I do need somebody most
every day for the _Minnie_. I take out the _Ariel_, and Bob the
_Washington_, and very often I can't let the _Minnie_ go out--not when they
want a skipper for the sloop."

"I would like the job," replied Ralph, promptly.

"Tell you what I'll do, Ralph. I'll give you a dollar and a half a day for
your services every day I can use you, and that will be at least four or
five days a week, even if it ain't the whole six."

"I'll take the job, and thank you," said the boy, reflecting that even four
days' work would bring in six dollars, as much as he had before earned,
while a full week's work would mean nine dollars.

"All right. I know I can trust you with the sloop, even if she is kind of
mulish at times."

"She needs constant watching, that's all. When can I come on?"

"Most likely Monday morning. There was a man coming to see me about her
this morning. If he--here he comes now."

Franchard referred to a well dressed gentleman who was walking toward the
dock, accompanied by a young gentleman and a young lady.

The gentleman, whose name was Larkins, entered into conversation with
Franchard, and then turned to Ralph.

"Do you think you can sail that sloop all right, my lad?"

"I know that I can, sir," returned Ralph, confidently.

"He knows small boats as well as I do, sir," put in Franchard. "His father
was a boatman before him, and he used to row when he was only five years
old."

"Then I will take the _Minnie_ for Monday and Tuesday, sure, and possibly
for Wednesday, too," said Mr. Larkins, and the bargain was settled on the
spot.

"What time do you wish me on hand?" asked Ralph.

"We will be ready to go out about ten o'clock," was the reply, after the
young lady and the young gentleman had been consulted.

"Now you see I couldn't have made that bargain if you hadn't turned up,"
said Franchard to Ralph, after the party had gone. "I'll be in pocket and
so will you."

"And that will be a job that will suit me," laughed Ralph. "For once I am
in luck."

He spent a few more minutes with Franchard, in completing arrangements, and
then hurried off to make up the time he had lost in the distribution of the
circulars.




CHAPTER XXIII.

STRANGE PASSENGERS.


Mrs. Nelson was glad to hear that Ralph had procured employment at Glen
Arbor. She knew her son understood boats thoroughly, so she was not alarmed
over the prospects, even though he had had such a thrilling experience at
the time of Dock Brady's rescue.

"It will bring us in money steadily, mother," Ralph said, "and that is what
we need."

"I do not know what I would do without you, Ralph," she returned, fondly.
"You have been the supporter of the family since your poor father was taken
away."

"I've been thinking, mother," went on the son, after a spell of silence. "I
have a great mind to use fifteen dollars of that money I have in
advertising for those missing property papers."

"Do you think it will do any good?"

"It won't do any harm. I hate to put out the money, but I guess we can
stand it now. The boating season will last for two months and more yet."

"Yes, Ralph, and we can save all you earn over six dollars a week. Of
course the money is yours----"

"No more mine than my dear mother's," he interrupted. "I think we ought to
save what we can."

"It is best, so that we shall not have to touch what is in the bank should
you not strike another situation at once after the boating season closes."

"But you are willing I should advertise, are you not, mother?"

"Oh, yes, Ralph. We must obtain the papers, if possible. If there is really
a boom in Westville real estate this lake shore property ought to become
valuable."

"I thought of putting an advertisement in the _County Record_, and also one
in the Chambersburgh _Leader_. Those are the principal papers read around
here."

"That is so, Ralph, but do you know their rates?"

"I will write and find out."

On Monday night, after a pleasant day on the lake with Mr. Larkins and his
young friends, Ralph sat down and wrote the letters. Two days later the
replies came back. He found the advertising rates of both journals quite
moderate, and at once sent each an advertisement, to appear in the Lost and
Found column several issues.

Mr. Larkins liked the sailing and fishing so well, as well as the efforts
of the young skipper to please him and his party, that he hired the sloop
for both Wednesday and Thursday additional. Ralph took them up and down Big
Silver Lake several times, and also through the draw and down Silver Lake.

On the latter trip Ralph saw Percy Paget, who sat on the bridge, talking
earnestly to Dan Pickley. The young aristocrat stared hard at Ralph.

"In a new business, eh?" he sneered, as the sloop ran through the draw.

Ralph paid no attention to him, and soon they were too far away from the
bridge for Percy to attempt to say more.

"Who is that young man?" asked Mr. Larkins, with a considerable show of
interest.

"That is Percy Paget, the son of the village squire," returned Ralph.

"A friend of yours?"

"No sir," and there was a decided ring in the boy's tones. "If anything, he
is my worst enemy."

"I imagine he is not a very nice youth," went on the gentleman.

"He is not, sir. He is very overbearing, and will do anything, no matter
how mean, if he can't have his own way."

"I believe you, Ralph. I met him once before, at a hotel back of Westville,
with a chum of his, and he was telling how he was going to get square with
somebody who had done something he did not like."

"Did he say what he was going to do?" asked Ralph, with not a little
curiosity.

"He said something about smashing some glass."

"He did!" Ralph was all attention now. "And did he mention any names, sir?"

"I did not hear the whole talk. I believe he spoke of scaring the widow to
death."

"I thought so!" returned Ralph, bitterly.

"Why, Ralph, do you know anything of this affair?"

"Indeed I do, sir. The widow he spoke of was my mother. Less than two
weeks ago he smashed nearly every pane of glass in our cottage!"

"Really, is it possible!" ejaculated Mr. Larkins. "He must be a thoroughly
bad boy."

"He is, sir.

"Did you suspect him?"

"I did. But I had no proofs, and he is rich, while we are poor."

"That doesn't make it right to smash windows," said the young lady, Mr.
Larkins' niece.

"I know it, but it makes it harder for one to obtain justice, especially as
in this case, when the boy's father is squire."

"I suppose that is so," said Mr. Larkins. "What was the trouble?"

"It's rather a long story, sir, but I'll tell it if you care to listen."

All were more than willing, and Ralph related his trials as the boat sped
on its way. He had three close listeners.

"It's too bad!" cried the young lady. "Uncle Will, cannot you help Mr.
Nelson recover damages from the Paget boy?"

"I don't know but what I can. Still, my evidence may not be sufficient to
prove him guilty."

"I won't bother you to do it," said Ralph. "The glass is in again and paid
for, so let it rest. But if he ever tries to do us harm again I'll tell him
what I know."

"Do so, and I will give you my address, in case you need my testimony,"
returned Ralph's patron.

On Friday Ralph was idle, so far as boating was concerned, but he put in a
full day in the vegetable garden attached to the cottage, and, as the place
needed attention on account of the many weeds, the day was far from lost.
On Saturday he went out with several gentlemen, and they liked his
treatment so well that they gave him a dollar extra, which, with what Mr.
Larkins had given him and his regular wages, made his income for the week
nine dollars and a half.

"That's not bad, is it, mother?" he said, as he placed the money in his
parent's lap.

"It is very good, indeed, Ralph," she replied. "At this rate you will be
getting rich."

"Hardly," he laughed. "But we will be able to save more than we expected."

On that day the boy procured both of the papers in which they had
advertised. There was the notice Ralph had written and so unaccustomed were
they to seeing their name in print that they read each notice over several
times.

The papers circulated through the district, so many saw the advertisement.
They asked both Ralph and his mother numerous questions, to which the two
answered briefly but politely. They did not wish to say much until the
missing papers were brought to light.

Squire Paget also saw the notice. At first he was both surprised and
perplexed. Then a shrewd, cunning look came over his face.

"It's that boy's scheme," he muttered to himself. "Oh, but he is sharp, no
doubt of that. Of course, he'll soon obtain the papers, and then----" he
gave a long sigh. "My plan to make a fortune will fall to pieces!"

All day Sunday, when he ought to have been at church, the squire remained
in his library scheming and plotting. That night he left on the evening
boat for Chambersburgh.

"I'll find somebody to help me get rid of them," he said. "It's the only
way."

On Monday Ralph took out a party of young ladies and gentlemen. He got in
at seven o'clock and found two rather rough-looking men awaiting his
arrival.

"We understand that boat isn't hired for to-morrow," said one of them. "I
suppose we can get her, can't we?"

"Yes, sir, if you pay the price."

"You are Ralph Nelson?"

"Yes, sir."

"I heard you was trustworthy. You can be on hand here at eight o'clock
to-morrow morning to take me and my friend out," went on the man.

"Yes, sir. Do you want any bait for fishing, sir?"

"No. We'll go for a sail, and possibly for a little hunting up on the
island."

"All right, sir. I'll be ready for you."

The men walked off toward a neighboring saloon. Ralph did not much fancy
their looks. He made up his mind that he would not have a very agreeable
day with them.

But he was on hand promptly in the morning, and after telling Franchard of
the engagement, took aboard the two men, who appeared each with a shotgun
and a game-bag.

"Sail to the upper end of the lake, toward the big islands," said the
spokesman, and Ralph steered in the direction, never dreaming of what that
eventful trip was to bring forth.




CHAPTER XXIV.

RALPH'S ROUGH EXPERIENCE.


"It's a fine day for sport," remarked Ralph to his two new passengers, as
the sloop skimmed along up Keniscot Lake.

"Yes," returned the elder of the two men, whose name was Martin. "It
couldn't be better."

"You don't want to try fishing?" suggested the boy, for he knew that a good
catch could be had with but little trouble.

"No," put in the younger man, called Toglet. "We want to get up among the
islands."

"Very well, sir, I'll have you up there just as fast as the breeze will
take us."

There was a slight pause after this, during which both of the men examined
their shotguns and other things which they carried.

"You live around here, I suppose?" remarked Martin, at length, looking at
Ralph sharply with his coal-black eyes.

"Yes, sir, I live at Westville."

"Lived there long?"

"All my life."

"Then you must know the folks there pretty well?"

"I know nearly everybody, sir."

"Any rich folks live in the town?"

"I don't know what you would call rich," laughed the young boatman. "There
are no millionaires, but there are several people quite well-to-do."

"Who are they?"

"There is Mr. Carrington, and the Widow Pennover for two, and then Squire
Paget is pretty well fixed, I imagine."

"Squire Paget, eh? Is he the squire of the place?"

"Yes, sir."

"Rules it pretty well, I suppose, if he's rich," and Martin laughed in a
style that had little of reality in it.

"I don't know what you mean by that," returned Ralph, in perplexity. "He is
squire, that is all. He owns quite a deal of property and he lives on the
rent money."

"Pretty nice town," put in Toglet. "I wouldn't mind owning a place there
myself. Do you own a place?" he went on, with assumed indifference, while
he listened eagerly for the reply.

"Yes, we own a small place close to the Eastport bridge."

"Oh, yes. That's a valuable spot."

"We own more of the land, from the bridge up, but we can't prove our right
to it," added Ralph.

"That's too bad." Toglet and Martin exchanged glances. "What seems to be
the trouble?" went on the former.

"The papers my father had are missing, and we can do nothing without them."

"You do not know what has become of the papers?"

"No, sir. We are advertising for them, but so far we have not received any
information concerning them."

"But can't you get duplicates from the former owners of the ground?"

"No, sir. The former owners are all dead, and the property fell into my
father's hands in a roundabout way. You see, when he got it the land was
worth but very little, and no great care was taken of the papers in
consequence."

Toglet nodded, as though to indicate he understood. Then, while Ralph was
busy starting the sloop on another tack, Toglet leaned over and whispered
to his companion:

"That's the bottom of it, Sam."

"I shouldn't wonder," returned Martin, in an equally low tone.

Ralph heard the whisper, but paid no attention to it, thinking the men were
discussing something not meant for his ears. He turned over on the new
tack, and once more the sloop went along on her course, throwing up the
fine spray over the bow.

"We'll be able to get home faster than we are now sailing," remarked Ralph.
"We'll have a good wind all the way."

"Unless it dies out," returned Martin, and there was just a trace of
nervousness in his tone.

"It won't die out," replied the young boatman, confidently, as he cast his
eyes about the sky. "This breeze is good until some time after dark."

"When will we be able to reach the islands?" asked Toglet.

Ralph looked at watch.

"It is now quarter to ten. We'll reach the lowest of them by eleven
o'clock, and the big ones quarter of an hour or so later."

On and on up the lake sped the sloop. The villages on the shores had been
left far behind, and now nothing but trees and bushes appeared upon either
bank.

"Rather lonely," observed Martin, as he gazed eagerly about. "Not a house
in sight."

"No, sir; there is no settlement within a mile and a half of here,"
returned Ralph.

"Are there any settlements near the islands?"

"No, sir."

"I understand there are a number of great cliffs and ravines about the
islands," observed Martin. "I would like to see them."

"I will show you all there are," said Ralph.

At the time he had named they reached several small islands and passed
them. Then two of larger proportions appeared in sight.

One of the latter was quite flat, while the other was rocky and
mountainous.

"There is the best island for hunting," said Ralph. "We call it Three Top
Island, because there are three tops to the mountain on it. Shall we land
now?"

"Yes," replied Toglet, after an exchange of glances with Martin.

Ralph at once lowered the jib and took a reef in the mainsail. Then the
tiller was thrown over, and in two minutes more they ran into a tiny cove
and came to anchor close beside a grassy bank, fringed with meadow brush.

"Of course you will go with us," said Martin, as he sprang out.

"If you wish," replied Ralph. "Otherwise, I can remain here until your
return."

"No; come along, by all means," put in Toglet. "We want you to show us the
points of interest, you know--those high cliffs and the big ravines."

"All right, sir. Just wait till I make everything secure."

Ralph at once set to work, and inside of five minutes he was ready to
accompany the two men. He had found them quite agreeable on the trip and
never for an instant did he dream of the foul plot that they were expecting
to carry out.

Ralph offered to carry the game-bags, but this offer was declined. So, with
nothing in his hands but a thin stick he had picked up on the bank, he led
the way away from the sloop and up among the rocks that formed the base of
the mountain of which the island was composed.

"It's the best kind of a place for the work," whispered Martin to Toglet,
as they trudged on behind Ralph. "Not a soul will guess the truth after the
deed is done."

"Don't let the boy suspect, or he will be on his guard," was the low reply.
"He looks as if he could show fight if he wished."

"We'll take him unawares, and then----"

"There's a good shot!" cried Ralph, pointing to a number of wild water
fowls, which just then arose from a hollow close by.

He fully expected one or the other of the men to take hasty aim and fire,
but neither did so.

"We'll wait for something better," said Martin.

"We'll take a look around before we begin to waste our powder," put in
Toglet.

In truth, neither of them had come to do any shooting. They were afraid
that a shot might attract attention should other sportsmen be in the
vicinity.

Ralph was rather disappointed. Had he had a gun he could easily have
brought down one or more of the fowls. He considered it a most excellent
chance lost--a chance that might not occur again that day.

Still it was not his place to pass any remark concerning the decision of
his two passengers, so he remained silent, and plodded along over the rocks
and through the brush, until, half an hour later, he came out on a grassy
plateau overlooking a magnificent stretch of water.

"Here we are at the top of one end of the mountain," he said. "You can see
a good many miles from here."

"That's so," said Martin. "What is below at the base of this cliff?"

"Rocks and water," returned Toglet, as he peered over. "It must be a
hundred feet to the bottom."

"It is more than that," replied Ralph.

Martin and Toglet exchanged glances, and both nodded. This was as good a
place as any for the accomplishment of their purpose.

"Hallo! what's that?" suddenly cried Martin, pointing across the lake.

Ralph looked in the direction, stepping close to the edge of the cliff as
he did so.

"I don't see anything unusual----" he began.

He got no further. The two men pushed up against him roughly, and before he
could save himself he was hurled into space. A second later he disappeared
from the sight of the two men.

"He's gone!" cried Martin. "Easily done, eh, Tom?"

"It was, Sam. Let us look to make sure he went down."

They peered over the edge of the cliff. Nothing was to be seen of Ralph.

"There's his cap down on the rocks by the water," said Toglet. "He has gone
clean out of sight. Come on away; the job is finished."

And without another word, these two villains in crime hurried from the spot
down to the other side of the island, where the sloop had been left.




CHAPTER XXV.

SQUIRE PAGET'S NEWS.


Martin and Toglet were very white when they reached the sloop, and the
younger man trembled from head to foot.

"What's the matter with you?" asked Martin, with a forced laugh, as they
got on board.

"No--nothing," stammered Toglet.

"You've got a bad case of the shakes."

"Well, to tell the truth, that's the worst job I ever tackled, although
I've accomplished many that were tough enough."

"Humph! you'll get over that feeling when you are as old as I am," replied
Martin, heartlessly. "What's the boy to us?"

"Oh, I ain't squealing. Only he looked so innocent----"

"Bah! don't give me any more of that stuff. Here, have something to brace
you up."

Martin pulled a black flask from his pocket and thrust it forward. Toglet
drank copiously, as if to drown out the memory of what had occurred. Martin
followed with an equally liberal dose.

"It was done easier than I at first imagined it would be," said the latter.
"Had he suspected the least thing we would have had a nasty struggle with
him."

The anchor was hoisted and the sails set, and in a few minutes the sloop
had left the island and was on her way down the lake.

"We won't go near Glen Arbor," said Martin. "Let them find out about the
affair in the natural way. If we report it we may get ourselves into
trouble."

"But the squire----" began Toglet.

"That's none of our affair. We'll land near Westville, and watch our chance
to report."

It was about four o'clock when the two rascals beached the sloop in an
out-of-the-way spot just north of the village in which Ralph lived. No one
had seen their coming, and as quickly as they could they left the craft and
then sent her adrift.

Both of the men had worn wigs, and these they now cast aside, altering
their appearance slightly. Their guns and game-bags were hidden behind a
pile of decayed logs and then they sneaked through the woods toward the
hill at the extremity of Westville.

They waited about Squire Paget's house for nearly an hour and at last saw
that gentleman come out and start up the country road which led away from
the village center.

Presently the squire came to an old, disused cottage, which years previous
had been used as a road tavern. Here he halted, and the two men at once
joined him.

"It's done, squire," said Martin.

"Hush! not here," cried Paget, in a scared voice. "Come inside."

He took from his pocket a key and with it unlocked the cottage door. The
two men passed inside, and the squire of Westville immediately followed.

"Take a look about before you say anything," he said. "We must not be
overheard."

Martin's lip curled, but he did as requested, and Toglet did the same. Not
a soul but themselves was anywhere in sight.

"We're all right, squire," said Martin. "So we'll get to business without
delay."

"Exactly, exactly! And did you--is he--is he gone?" asked Squire Paget,
breathing hard.

"Yes, he's gone," returned Martin, boldly. "He went over the top of the big
cliff, and that is the end of him."

"You are sure it was the right boy?"

"Yes, he said his name was Ralph Nelson," put in Toglet.

"You saw him go--go down all right?" asked the squire, hesitatingly. "There
was no failure----"

"Not a bit of it," said Martin. "He went over into the rocks below and into
the water. He gave one scream, and that was all," he added, dramatically.

The squire shuddered. It must really be true. Ralph Nelson was dead!

"Very good," he said, in a hoarse voice. "Here is the hundred dollars each
I promised you. You shall have the other five hundred when--the body is
found."

"All right, but you'll have to do the finding," said Martin. "It's at the
bottom of the big cliff on the west side of Three Top Island. His cap is
among the rocks close by."

"And his boat----"

"We sent that adrift. If we are traced up we want to shield ourselves by
saying we went off hunting and when we got back could find nothing of him
and the boat, and had to get a stranger to take us ashore."

"Ah, I see. Very good."

"Now we want to be going. We'll look for you in Chambersburgh inside of a
week. Don't fail us if you value your secret."

"I will be on hand."

"You ought to pay us more than five hundred," put in Toglet. "You are going
to make a pile out of this."

"How do you know anything about what I am going to make?" asked the squire,
in great surprise.

"The boy told us about his property and the papers that were missing."

"I know nothing of that."

"Humph! We can put two and two together. You'll make a fortune out of that
land, no doubt."

"I know nothing of that land you mention."

"Maybe you don't."

"And I haven't his missing papers," went on Squire Paget, and for once he
spoke the truth.

"Then what's your aim in getting him out of the way?"

"That is my affair."

"Of course it is," broke in Martin. "But you might make it a bit more than
five hundred."

"I am poor, gentlemen. I had to do what has been done to keep me from
ruin."

Both of the rascals laughed at his words, but they could get nothing more
out of the squire, and a few minutes later, after a little more
conversation concerning poor Ralph, they separated. The two villains who
had pushed the boy over the cliff went back for their guns and game-bags,
and then set out for a town at the north of the lake.

Squire Paget watched them out of sight, and then hurried back to his
mansion. Somehow, he did not feel safe until he had locked himself in his
library.

"At last the boy is out of the way," he murmured, to himself, as he sank
into an easy-chair. "It was accomplished much easier than I imagined it
would be, thanks to my intimate knowledge of the character of that rascal
Martin, and Toglet, his tool. Now what is to be done next? It will not do
to get the widow out of the way--that would excite suspicion. I had better
wait and watch her closely. Maybe she'll be unable to hold her cottage with
her son no longer at hand to earn enough to keep them, and she'll be forced
to sell out at a low figure, and then--by Jove!" he exclaimed, suddenly.
"That's a grand idea! It's a wonder I didn't think of it before!"

The new idea made the squire walk up and down the library rapidly. He was a
great schemer and could evolve a whole transaction, no matter how
intricate, much more rapidly than most men.

"I'll do it!" he said, to himself. "I'll offer her a good price for the
cottage and the land, and when the papers are drawn up for her signature,
I'll take good care that all the other land is included in the plot
mentioned. I can make the papers so confusing that she won't know the
difference, and she'll sign them without knowing their real contents.
Glorious!"

Then came a knock on the door.

"Dinner is ready, sir," said the housekeeper.

"Very well; I will be there in a few minutes," he returned.

Then he gazed out of the window thoughtfully.

"But what if those papers should turn up? I must watch out for them, and
get the land in my name before that occurs--if it ever does occur. What a
fool I was to trust them in the mails to have them certified to by that old
woman in New York!"




CHAPTER XXVI.

ON THE ISLAND.


Meanwhile, what of poor Ralph? Was it true that he had been dashed to his
death over the high cliff?

Happily, it was not true. Yet, for a long while after he was pushed over,
the boy knew nothing of what had happened.

He went down and down, clutching vainly at rocks and bushes as he passed.
Then his head struck a stone and he was knocked senseless.

How long he remained in this state he did not know. When he came to all was
dark around him and silent.

Putting his hand to his face he found it covered with blood. There was a
large bruise on his left temple, and his head ached as it never had before.

"Where am I?" was his first thought. "What has hap---- Oh!"

With something akin to a shock he remembered the truth--how he had stood on
the edge of the cliff, and how Martin and Toglet had bumped up against him
and shoved him over.

"I believe they did it on purpose," he thought. "The villains! What was
their object?"

By the darkness Ralph knew it was night, but what time of night he could
not tell. Luckily, he had not worn his new watch. The old one was
battered, and had stopped.

Presently the bruised and bewildered boy was able to take note of his
surroundings, and then he shuddered to think how narrowly he had escaped
death.

He had caught in a small tree which grew half way down the side of the
cliff, and his head struck on a stone resting between two of the limbs of
the tree. Below him was a dark space many feet in depth, above him was a
projecting wall of the cliff which hid the top from view.

What to do he did not know. He wished to get either to the top or the
bottom of the wall as soon as possible, but he did not dare make the effort
in his feeble condition and without the aid of daylight.

"I must remain here until dawn," he concluded. "I can do nothing until I
can see my way."

To prevent himself from falling should he grow faint or doze off, he tied
himself to the limbs of the tree with several bits of cord he happened to
have in his pocket.

Hour after hour went by, and he sat there, alternately nursing his wounds
and clutching his aching head, and wondering why the two men had treated
him so cruelly. Never once did he suspect that they were the hirelings of
Squire Paget.

"They did not rob me," he said to himself, after he had searched his
pockets and found his money and other valuables safe. "And yet I am
positive that it was not an accident."

At last the morning dawned. With the first rays of light Ralph looked
about for some manner of releasing himself from his perilous position.

To climb up to the top of the cliff was impossible. There was nothing but
the bare rocks to clutch, and they would afford no hold worth considering.

Therefore, he must go down; but such a course was nearly as hazardous.

With great care he lowered himself to the cleft from which the tree that
had saved his life sprung. Having gained this, he scrambled down along a
fringe of brush. Then it was necessary to drop a distance of ten feet, and
crawl on hands and knees around a sharp corner to where a slope of dirt led
to the bottom. On the dirt he slipped, and he could not stop himself until
he had rolled into a clump of bushes directly at the base of the cliff.

[Illustration: "It was necessary to drop a distance of ten feet." See page
168.]

Still more bruised, he picked himself up with a thankful feeling. At last
he was free from the danger which had hung over him so grimly. He breathed
a long sigh of relief.

Water was at his feet and his first task was to bathe his face and hands.
Then he bound his handkerchief over his bruised temple. He looked about for
his cap, and was not long in finding it.

"I suppose those fellows have left the island, and if so they have
doubtless taken the sloop," he thought, dismally. "I'll make certain,
though, and be on my guard while I am doing it."

He walked slowly and painfully to the cove where the boat had been left,
but, as we already know, it was gone.

"They have taken themselves off and left me behind for dead," Ralph said
to himself. "Well, thank fortune, I am alive!"

The boy was in a sad situation. He was without food and with no means of
communication with the mainland on either side of the lake.

"I must see if I can't signal some passing boat," he thought. "It is
impossible to swim to the shore, especially now when I feel as weak as a
rag."

Ralph had just struck out for the opposite side of the island, that upon
which all of the regular lake boats passed, when the report of a gun
reached his ears.

It came from some distance to the north, and was soon followed by several
other shots.

He wondered if it could be Martin and Toglet, or some sportsmen. Determined
to find out, he set out as rapidly as he could in the direction of the
sound.

After passing through a patch of woods and over a hill of rough stones, he
came to a thicket of blueberry bushes. As he entered it there came another
shot, not a hundred feet away.

In a moment more the boy espied a sportsman, dressed in a regular hunting
garb.

"Hallo, there!" he called out.

"Hallo, boy!" returned the man, cheerily. "Out hunting, like myself?"

"No, sir," replied Ralph. "Yes, I am, too," he added, with a faint
smile--"I am hunting for help."

"Help?" The sportsman put down his gun. "Why, what's the matter with your
head?"

"I've had a bad tumble. Two men pushed me over the cliff on the other side
of the island."

"The dickens you say! Pushed you over?"

"Yes, sir."

"What for? Did they rob you?"

"No, sir."

"Oh, then it was an accident, perhaps?"

"I don't think so. I don't see how it could have been accidental."

"Well, you arouse my curiosity. Tell me your story--or, you said you wanted
help. What can I do for you?"

"If you have a boat you can put me ashore. The two men took my boat."

"Then they robbed you after all."

"But they didn't go through my pockets," returned Ralph.

Sitting down on a soft knoll of grass, the boy told his story to Carter
Franklin, for such was the sportsman's name. The latter listened with
interest.

"Certainly an odd occurrence, to say the least, my young friend. What could
have been the object of the two villains?"

"I cannot say, sir."

"It is impossible to imagine they wished to murder you merely for your
boat."

"That is true, sir."

"Depend upon it, they were up to something more. It may be that they were
hired to do the deed."

Ralph started.

"That may be!" he cried.

"Have you any great enemies?"

"I have enemies, but none so bad as to wish to take my life," returned
Ralph, and he thought he told the truth.

"Humph! Well, it's strange. I suppose you would like to be set ashore as
soon as possible?"

"Yes, sir."

"You say you came from Glen Arbor? I have only a rowboat at hand----"

"You can land me anywhere," interrupted Ralph. "I can easily tramp it or
catch a ride back to where I belong."

"Very well; follow me."

The boy followed the sportsman down the hill to the shore. Here lay a
trim-looking boat with a pair of oars on the seats. Both at once sprang in.
Ralph was about to take up the blades, but the man stopped him.

"You are too broke up to row," he said. "Sit down and take it easy."

"You are very kind, sir."

"Don't mention it. I only trust you are able to catch those rascals and
bring them to justice."

The main shore was soon gained, at a point about six miles above Glen
Arbor, and Ralph sprang out. He thanked Carter Franklin again for his
kindness, and then started off for home, thinking soon to be able to tell
his mother and his friends his strange tale and start out a party to search
for his assailants. He did not know that he was destined to have many
strange adventures ere he should reach Westville again.




CHAPTER XXVII.

THE MEETING IN THE WOODS.


Ralph was so sore and stiff from his fall that he walked very slowly toward
Westville. It seemed to him that he ached in every joint, and it was not
long before he sought a soft grassy bank upon which to rest.

"If only somebody would come along with a wagon," he thought, as he gazed
up and down the rather rough woodland road. "I would willingly pay a
half-dollar for a lift, as much as I need my money."

The boy was much exercised over his mother. He knew that she would be
greatly worried over his prolonged absence. Never before had he remained
away from home over night.

No wagon or any other vehicle appeared, and Ralph was forced to resume his
journey on foot, dragging his tired and bruised body along as best he
could.

Presently he came to a tiny stream that flowed into Big Silver Lake. Here
he stopped again, not only to rest, but also to bathe his temples and
obtain a drink, for the water was both pure and cold.

He could not help but think of the strange manner in which he had been
attacked. What had been the purpose of Martin and Toglet?

"If I did not know better, I would be almost forced to believe it was
accidental," he thought. "But in that case they would have come to my
assistance, instead of taking the sloop and hurrying off with her."

It was so comfortable a spot at the brook that Ralph rested there longer
than he had originally intended. But at last he arose and moved on,
thankful that he had accomplished at least one-third of the distance home.

The road now left the vicinity of the lake and led up into the woods and
across several deep ravines. It also crossed the railroad track, for there
was a spur of the main line which came down to Glen Arbor--this spur being
the only railroad in the vicinity.

Ralph had just crossed the tracks, when happening to glance toward an old
shed in the vicinity, he saw something which filled him with astonishment.
Emerging from the place were two men, and they were Martin and Toglet!

At first the boy could scarcely credit his senses. But a second look
convinced him that he was not mistaken. They were his two assailants, true
enough.

Ralph stood still, not knowing whether to advance or retreat. Before he
could decide the point, Martin and Toglet, who had spent the night in the
shanty after leaving Squire Paget, discovered him.

Toglet gave a cry of terror, thinking he was looking upon a ghost. Martin
also uttered a yell, but it was more of astonishment than aught else.

"Look! look!" shrieked Toglet.

And he pointed with his long finger.

"It's the boy, as I'm a sinner!" burst out Martin.

"It's his ghost! Oh, why did I----"

"Shut up! It's the boy, I tell you! He must have escaped in some miraculous
manner. See, his forehead is bound up," went on Martin.

"But how could he escape?" asked Toglet, faintly.

"That is more than I can answer. But there he is, and all our work was for
nothing," growled Martin.