"Not just yet. Wait till the affair blows over a little."

"Do you think there's any danger, then?" queried Martin, anxiously.

"Not much. Still it's best to be prudent."

"Hadn't you better sell it yourself?"

"Suppose I did," said Smith. "I might take the notion to walk off with all the money."

"I don't think you would," said Martin, surveying his confederate doubtfully, nevertheless.

"No, I don't think I would; but if you sell it yourself, you'll have the affair in your own hands."

"But _I_ might walk off with all the money, too," said Martin, who thought it a poor rule that didn't work both ways.

"I don't think you would," said Smith, "and I'll tell you why. We belong to a large band, that are bound together by a terrible oath to punish any one guilty of treachery. Suppose you played me false, and did as you say,--though of course I know you don't mean it,--I wouldn't give that for your life;" and he snapped his fingers.

"Don't!" said Martin, with a shudder. "You make me shiver. Of course I didn't mean anything. I'm on the square."

"Certainly, I only told you what would happen to you or me, or any one that was false to the others."

"I think I'd rather have you sell the bond," said Martin, nervously.

"If I were in your case, I'd be perfectly willing; but the fact is, the brokers know me too well. They suspect me, and they won't suspect you."

"I think I've had my share of the risk," grumbled Martin. "I don't see but I do the work, and you share the profits."

"Wasn't it I that put you up to it?" demanded Smith. "Would you ever have thought of it if it hadn't been for me?"

"Maybe I wouldn't. I wish I hadn't."

"You're a fool, then! Don't you see it's turned out all right? Haven't you got fifty dollars in your pocket, and won't you have two hundred and fifty more when the bond is sold?"

"I thought I'd get five thousand," said Martin, dissatisfied.

"It seems to me that three hundred dollars is pretty good pay for one morning's work; but then there are some people that are never satisfied."

"It wasn't the work, it was the danger. I aint at all sure but the boy saw me, and knew who I was. If he did, I've got to keep out of the way."

"Do you think he did recognize you?" asked Smith, thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure. I'm afraid he did."

"I wish we'd got him in our clutches. But I dare say he was too frightened to tell who it was."

"He aint easy frightened," said Martin, shaking his head. He understood our hero better than his confederate.

"Well, all is, you must be more careful for a few days. Instead of staying in the city, I'll send you to Jersey City, Newark, and other places where you won't be likely to meet him."

"That might do," said Martin; "he's a smart boy, though he's an undootiful son. He don't care no more for me than if I was no kith nor kin to him, and he just as lieves see me sent to prison as not."

"There's one thing you haven't thought of," said Smith.

"What's that?"

"His employer will most likely think that the boy has stolen the box, or had something to do with its being carried off. As he took him out of the street, he won't have much confidence in his honesty. I shouldn't be at all surprised if this undootiful boy of yours, as you call him, found himself locked up in the Tombs, on account of this little affair."

"Do you think so?" said Martin, brightening up at the suggestion.

"I think it more likely than not. If that is the case, of course you won't be in any danger from him."

"That's so," said Martin, cheerfully. "I hope you're right. It would be worth something to have that young imp locked up. He wouldn't put on so many airs after that."

"Well, it's very likely to happen."

The contemplation of this possibility so raised Martin's spirits, that, in spite of the disappointment he had experienced in finding the booty so far below what he had antic.i.p.ated, he became quite cheerful, especially after Smith produced a bottle of whiskey, and asked him to help himself,--an invitation which he did not have occasion to repeat.

CHAPTER XVIII.

RUFUS ENTRAPPED.

"Now," said Rufus to himself on the morning succeeding the robbery, "I've got a week to recover that box. How shall I go about it?"

This was a question easier asked than answered. Martin being the thief, the first thing, of course, was to find him; and Rufus had considerable hopes of encountering him in the street some day. Should this be the case, he might point him out to a policeman, and have him arrested at once; but this would not recover the box. Probably it was concealed at Martin's boarding-house, and this it was that Rufus was anxious to find.

He decided, therefore, whenever he got on the track of his step-father, to follow him cautiously until he ascertained where he lodged.

He walked the street with his eyes about him all day, but did not catch a glimpse of Martin. The fact was, the latter was at Newark, having been sent there by his employers with a supply of counterfeit money to dispose of, so that our hero's search was of course fruitless, and so he was obliged to report to Mr. Turner the next morning.

"Probably he is in hiding," said his employer. "I don't think you have much chance of meeting him for a few days to come."

"I should like to try," said Rufus. "He won't be content to hide long."

"I have notified the banks and railroad companies of the robbery," said Mr. Turner; "so that it will be impossible to sell the shares. After a while, should we fail to recover them, they will grant us duplicate certificates. I have advertised, also, the numbers of the bonds; and, if an attempt is made to dispose of them, the thief will find himself in trouble. So the loss is reduced to four hundred dollars."

"That is too much to lose," said Rufus.

"That is true; but we are lucky to get off so cheap."

"I hope to get back some of that," said our hero, stoutly.

"Did it ever strike you that there might be some risk encountering this man? If he is driven to bay he may become dangerous."

"I don't think of the danger, Mr. Turner," said Rufus. "I lost that box, and it is my duty to recover it if I can, danger or no danger."