CHAPTER XXXIV. DENTON SEES HIS INTENDED VICTIMS ESCAPE.

O LIVER was rejoiced to see the sunshine entering the window. He felt that his long vigil was over, and the danger was passed. He saw Bundy's eyes open, and he spoke to him.

"Are you awake, Mr. Bundy?"

"Yes, Oliver; I have slept well, though this is a new place."

"I have not slept since midnight," said our hero.

"Why not? Are you sick?" asked Bundy anxiously.

"No, I was afraid to sleep."

Then, in a few words, Oliver sketched the events of the night, and added what he had heard about Denton's character.

"The skunk!" exclaimed Bundy indignantly. "But why didn't you wake me up, Oliver?"

"I would, if there had been any need of it. I was able to manage him alone."

"You're a brave boy, Oliver," said Bundy admiringly. "Not many boys would have shown your pluck."

"I don't know about that, Mr. Bundy," said Oliver modestly. "You must remember that I had a pistol in my hand and had no need to be afraid."

"It needed a brave heart and steady hand for all that. But now you must get some sleep. I am awake and there is no danger. If that skunk tries to get in he'll get a warm reception."

Oliver was glad to feel at liberty to sleep. He closed his eyes and did not open them again till nine o'clock. When he opened his eyes he saw Bundy, already dressed, sitting in a chair beside the window.

"Hallo! it's late," he exclaimed; "isn't it, Mr. Bundy?"

"Nine o'clock."

"Haven't you had your breakfast?"

"No; I am waiting for you."

"Why didn't you wake me up before? I don't like to keep you waiting."

"My boy," said Bundy in an affectionate tone, "it is the least I can do when you lay awake for me all night. I shall not soon forget your friendly devotion."

"You mustn't flatter me, Mr. Bundy," said Oliver. "You may make me vain."

"I'll take the risk."

"Have you been out?"

"Yes; I went out to get a paper, and I have seen our landlady. I gave her warning—told her I should leave to-day."

"What did she say?"

"She seemed surprised and wanted to know my reasons. I told her that I wasn't used to midnight interruptions. She colored, but did not ask any explanation. I paid her, and we will move to-day back to our old quarters. Now, when you are dressed, we will go and get some breakfast."

"Suppose we meet Denton?"

"He will keep out of our way. If he don't, I may take him by the collar and shake him out of his boots."

"I guess you could do it, Mr. Bundy," said Oliver, surveying the wiry, muscular form of his companion.

"I should not be afraid to try," said Nicholas, with a grim smile.

After breakfast they arranged to remove their trunks back to their old quarters.

"Our stay here has been short, but it has been long enough," said Nicholas. "Next time we will put less confidence in fair words and a smooth tongue."

They did not meet Denton, but that gentleman was quite aware of their movements. From the window of his chamber he saw Oliver and his guardian depart, and later he saw their luggage carried away.

"So they've given me the slip, have they?" he soliloquized. "Well, that doesn't end it. The old man is worth plucking, and the boy I am paid to watch. Confound the young bantam! I will see that he don't crow so loud the next time we meet. But why does Kenyon take such an interest in him? That's what I don't understand."

Denton took from his pocket a letter signed "Benjamin Kenyon," and read carefully the following passage:

When you find the boy—and I think you cannot fail with the full description of himself and his companion which I send you—watch his movements. Note especially whether he appears to have any communication with a woman who may claim to be his mother. Probably they will not meet, but it is possible that they may. If so, it is important that I should be apprised at once, I will send you further instructions hereafter.

Denton folded the letter, and gave himself up to reflection.

"Why don't he take me into his confidence? Why don't he tell me just what he wants, just what this woman and this boy are to him? I suppose I have made a mistake in showing my hand so soon, and incorporating a little scheme of my own with my principal's. But I was so very hard up I couldn't resist the temptation of trying to obtain a forced loan from the old man. If that cursed boy hadn't been awake I should have succeeded, and could then have given my attention to Kenyon's instructions. I wonder, by the way, why he calls himself Kenyon. When I knew him he was Rupert Jones, and he didn't particularly honor the name, either. Well, time will make things clearer. Now I must keep my clue, and ascertain where my frightened birds are flitting to."

He went downstairs just as the expressman was leaving the house, and carelessly enquired where he was carrying the luggage. Suspecting no harm, the expressman answered his question, and Denton thanked him with a smile.

"So far, so good," he thought. "That will save me some trouble."

The explanation of Mr. Kenyon's letter is briefly this. His visit South had done no good. He had had an interview with Dr. Fox, in which he had so severely censured the doctor that the latter finally became angry and defiant, and intimated that if pushed to extremity he would turn against Kenyon, and make public the conspiracy in which he had joined, together with Kenyon's motive in imprisoning his wife.

This threat had the effect of cooling Mr. Kenyon's excitement, and a reconciliation was patched up.

An attempt was made to trace Mrs. Kenyon through old Nancy, but the faithful old colored woman was proof alike against threats, entreaties, and bribes, and steadily refused to give any information as to the plans of the refugee. Indeed, she would have found it difficult to give any information of value, having heard nothing of Mrs. Kenyon since they parted at the railroad station.

Nancy would have been as much surprised as anyone to hear of the subsequent escape of her guest to Chicago.

Mr. Kenyon's greatest fear was lest Oliver and his mother should meet. He knew the boy's resolute bravery, and feared the effects of his just resentment when he learned the facts of his mother's ill-treatment at the hands of his step-father. These considerations led to his opening communication with Denton, whom he had known years before, when he was Rupert Jones.