"You are either Fox or a member of his band."

"You seem to be a sharp boy; I won't tell you whether you are right or not."

"I suppose I may go now?"

"Where do you want to go?"

Ernest hesitated. This was a question which he could not at once answer.

To go on to Lee's Falls without the packet would do little good. Yet the bank officers there ought to know that the bonds intended for them had been stolen.

"I will go to Lee's Falls," he said.

"Not at present; I have other views for you." As he spoke the robber turned his horse to the right. Wholly ignorant as to where he was to be carried, Ernest sank back in his seat and resigned himself as well as he could to the situation.

CHAPTER XVI

IN THE OUTLAW'S HOME

Where he was to be carried or what was to be his fate, Ernest could not conjecture, nor did he speculate much. It was enough for him to know that he was in the power of one of the notorious outlaws.

There was considerable difference between his appearance and that of the man at his side. He was silent and depressed, while James Fox, for it was he, seemed in excellent spirits. He turned to the boy with the remark: "You don't say much."

"No, for it would be no good."

"Brace up, boy! There is no occasion to look as if you were going to a funeral."

"Give me back the bonds and I will look lively enough."

"Come now, don't be foolish. These bonds don't belong to you."

"They were given into my care."

"Very well! You took as good care of them as you could."

"I shall be held responsible for them."

"No, you won't. I shall send your employers a letter letting them know that you did the best you could to keep them out of my hands. But perhaps they never heard of me," and he laughed.

"If your name is Fox they have heard of you."

"There is no need to beat about the bush. My name is Fox--James Fox."

"What made you take up such a business, Mr. Fox?" asked Ernest gravely.

"Well, I like that! You, a kid, undertake to lecture me."

"You were once a kid yourself."

The outlaw's face grew grave suddenly and his tone became thoughtful.

"Yes, I was a kid once. At sixteen--is that your age?"

"Yes."

"Well, at sixteen I was as innocent as you. I had a good mother then. If she had lived perhaps I would have turned out different. Why, it seems a great joke, doesn't it. I attended Sunday-school till I was fifteen. Are you afraid that you will come to harm?"

Ernest looked intently in the brigand's face.

"No," he said, after a pause. "I think you won't do me any more harm. But you can do me a great favor."

"What is that--return you the bonds?"

"I would ask that if I thought you would do it, but I don't expect it. I should like to have you release me and let me go home."

"I can't do that, for I want you to visit me. You may not think it, but I always liked young people. It will be quite a pleasure to me to have you for a visitor."

"Thank you, but I am afraid that I shall become an unwilling guest."

"Besides, it will be a pleasure to my little boy to meet you. He does not often meet other boys."

"Have you a son?" asked Ernest in surprise.

The outlaw's face softened.

"Yes," he answered. "He is a sweet little boy, as I can say even if he is my son. His name is Frank. Would you like to see his picture?"

"Yes," answered Ernest, with interest.

James Fox drew from an inner pocket a small card photograph of a young boy with a very winning face. Ernest was attracted, for unlike many boys of his age he liked younger children. He looked at the picture long and earnestly.

"It is a sweet face," he said at last.

"Isn't it?" asked the proud father.

"Is his mother living?"

"No."

"Was there no difficulty in getting it taken?"

"I suppose you mean on account of my profession. Well, there might be around here, but this was taken in Minneapolis--about a year ago. It was one of the few visits that Frank has made with me."

"Are you going to bring him up to your business?"

"Take care, boy!" said the outlaw, frowning. "Don't be impertinent."