At this Potts told Clark the story of the recent interview. Clark looked grave, and shook his head several times.

"Bad! bad! bad!" said he, slowly, when Potts had ended. "You're in a tight place, lad, and I don't see what you've got to do but to knock under."

A long silence followed.

"When did that chap say he would leave?"

"To-night."

Another silence.

"I suppose," said Clark, "we can find out how he goes?"

"I suppose so," returned Potts, gloomily.

"Somebody might go with him or follow him," said Clark, darkly.

Potts looked at him. The two exchanged glances of intelligence.

"You see, you pay your money, and get your papers back. It would be foolish to let this man get away with so much money. One hundred and two thousand five hundred isn't to be picked up every day. Let us pick it up this time, or try to. I can drop down to the inn this evening, and see the cut of the man. I don't like what he said about me. I call it backbiting."

"You take a proper view of the matter," said Potts. "He's dangerous.

He'll be down on you next. What I don't like about him is his cold-bloodedness."

"It does come hard."

"Well, we'll arrange it that way, shall we?"

"Yes, you pay over, and get your doc.u.ments, and I'll try my hand at getting the money back. I've done harder things than that in my time and so have you--hey, lad!"

"I remember a few."

"I wonder if this man knows any of them."

"No," said Potts, confidently. "He would have said something."

"Don't be too sure. The fact is, I've been troubled ever since that girl came out so strong on us. What are you going to do with her?"

"Don't know," growled Potts. "Keep her still somehow."

"Give her to me."

"What'll you do with her?" asked Potts, in surprise.

"Take her as my wife," said Clark, with a grin. "I think I'll follow your example and set up housekeeping. The girl's plucky; and I'd like to take her down."

"We'll do it; and the sooner the better. You don't want a minister, do you?"

"Well, I think I'll have it done up ship-shape, marriage in high life; papers all full of it; lovely appearance of the bride--ha, ha, ha!

I'll save you all further trouble about her--a husband is better than a father in such a case. If that Italian comes round it'll be his last round."

Some further conversation followed, in which Clark kept making perpetual references to his bride. The idea had taken hold of his mind completely.

At one o'clock Potts went to the inn, where he found the agent. He handed over the money in silence. The agent gave him the doc.u.ments.

Potts looked at them all carefully.

Then he departed.

CHAPTER XLIV.

THE STRANGER'S STORY.

That evening a number of people were in the princ.i.p.al parlor of the Brandon Inn. It was a cool evening in October; and there was a fire near which the partner of Bigelow, Higginson, & Co. had seated himself.

Clark had come in at the first of the evening and had been there ever since, talking volubly and laughing boisterously. The others were more or less talkative, but none of them rivaled Clark. They were nearly all Brandon people; and in their treatment of Clark there was a certain restraint which the latter either did not wish or care to notice. As for the stranger he sat apart in silence without regarding any one in particular, and giving no indication whether he was listening to what was going on or was indifferent to it all. From time to time Clark threw glances in his direction, and once or twice he tried to draw some of the company out to make remarks about him; but the company seemed reluctant to touch upon the subject, and merely listened with patience.

Clark had evidently a desire in his mind to be very entertaining and lively. With this intent he told a number of stories, most of which were intermingled with allusions to the company present, together with the stranger. At last he gazed at the latter in silence for some little time, and then turned to the company.

"There's one among us that hasn't opened his mouth this evening. I call it unsociable. I move that the party proceed to open it forthwith. Who seconds the motion? Don't all speak at once."

The company looked at one another, but no one made any reply.

"What! no one speaks! All right; silence gives consent;" and with these words Clark advanced toward the stranger. The latter said nothing, but sat in a careless att.i.tude.

"Friend!" said Clark, standing before the stranger, "we're all friends here--we wish to be sociable--we think you are too silent--will you be kind enough to open your mouth? If you won't tell a story, perhaps you will be good enough to sing us a song?"

The stranger sat upright.

"Well," said he; in the same peculiar harsh voice and slow tone with which he had spoken to Potts, "the request is a fair one, and I shall be happy to open my mouth. I regret to state that having no voice I shall be unable to give you a song, but I'll be glad to tell a story, if the company will listen."

"The company will feel honored," said Clark, in a mocking tone, as he resumed his seat.

The stranger arose, and, going to the fire-place, picked up a piece of charcoal.

Clark sat in the midst of the circle, looking at him with a sneering smile. "It's rather an odd story," said the stranger, "and I only heard it the other day; perhaps you won't believe it, but it's true."

"Oh, never mind the truth of it!" exclaimed Clark--"push along."

The stranger stepped up to the wall over the fire-place.

"Before I begin I wish to make a few marks, which I will explain in process of time. My story is connected with these."

He took his charcoal and made upon the wall the following marks:

[Ill.u.s.tration: ^ /| [three lines, forming short arrow]