"The building must be deserted," he said to himself. "And I suppose it is too far to the street for any one to hear my call."

Five minutes pa.s.sed. Hal was getting weaker fast. Oh, how his head ached!

Filled with something akin to desperation, Hal cried out again, this time at the very top of his lungs. A deep and profound silence followed.

"It's no use," he thought. "This is some old building that no one will visit all winter. I suppose Ferris and that Macklin think----"

He held his breath. What was that sound overhead?

He strained his ears. Yes, it was footsteps!

"Help! help! Come down in the cellar!" he cried.

Again and again his voice rang out, and the footsteps came closer. Then his heart seemed to stop beating. Supposing it should be Ferris or Macklin returning?

"What's the trouble?" suddenly cried a voice from the stairs in the corner.

"Help me out of the vat!" replied Hal. "Quick! I am freezing to death!"

"Wall, I swan!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the voice.

Then came more footsteps, and an elderly man, carrying a lantern, appeared at the edge of the vat.

"Give me your hand," he said, setting down the lantern. "This is a nice fix ter git into."

He leaned down, and Hal held up his hand. The new-comer grasped the youth's wrist, and in a moment Hal was upon the cellar floor.

"Oh, thank you!" chattered Hal. "I--I--couldn't have stood it another minute."

"'Most froze, be you?" returned the man. "Here, strip off that coat of yourn and put on mine. That's a most all-fired cold bath. How did you git in?"

"I was pushed in," replied Hal. He tried to pull off his coat, but had not the strength. "Will you help me?"

"Of course." In a twinkle the man had the coat off, and his own on Hal's shivering form. "Belong around here?"

"No."

"Then come with me. I live right across the way, and I'll soon warm you up. It's lucky I came over to see if everything was all right. I'm looking after the place till spring."

The man took up his lantern once more and led the way up stairs and across the street. The two entered a neat-looking tenement, and the man took Hal to a set of rooms on the second floor.

A hot fire was blazing in the kitchen, and drawing up a chair the man motioned for Hal to sit down.

"Maybe the old woman kin lend you some clothes," said the man. "But I allow as how you may be better off, if you let the wet ones dry onto you. It may save you from a spell of sickness."

"I am doing very nicely now," replied Hal. "I am used to some pretty tough knocks," he added, and he spoke the truth, for life at the Fairham poor-house had been anything but easy.

At that moment, the door opened, and a girl rushed in. She looked at Hal, and then gave a cry of surprise.

"Hullo! What brings you here?" she asked.

"What's that?" put in the man.

"He saved me from getting a beating," said the girl. "Didn't you?"

Hal turned and looked at the girl. It was the same that Ferris had attacked at the entrance to the alley.

He smiled and nodded.

"It was awful good of you," she went on. "He's a brave man, pop."

"Who was going to beat you?"

The girl gave her version of the affair. The man listened attentively, and then turned to Hal.

"I'm doubly glad I did you that service," he said. "Katie is my only girl, and I don't want her abused. May I ask your name?"

"Hal Carson."

"Mine is McCabe."

"McCabe!" cried Hal. "Are you Jack McCabe's father?"

"I am. Do you know my boy?"

"Do I? He saved my life only the other night."

"So it was you he saved?" exclaimed McCabe.

"Yes."

"He told me about it. It seems you have enemies."

"Yes."

"And they are the ones who pushed you into the vat?"

"One of them did, aided by a chum."

"You have been struck on the head. Here, let me bind it up. I suppose you are in no hurry to go?"

"No, sir."

McCabe brought out a handkerchief and a strip of cloth, and bound up the wound, which was but a slight one.

"You ought to have the pair of them arrested," he said.

"I have my reasons for not doing so," replied Hal. "But you may rest a.s.sured their time will come."