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CHAPTER XX.
HUMPY

"I might break the window," thought Rufus; but it occurred to him at once that the noise would probably be heard. Besides, if there was any one in the room below, he would very likely be seen descending from the window. If this plan were adopted at all, he must wait till evening. Meanwhile some other way of escape might suggest itself.

The room was of moderate size,—about fifteen feet square. A cheap carpet covered the floor. A pine bedstead occupied one corner. There were three or four chairs, a bureau, and a bedstead.

Rufus sat down, and turned the matter over in his mind. He couldn't make up his mind what Martin's business was, but decided that it was something unlawful, and that he was either employed by Smith, or connected in some way with him. It seemed to him probable that his step-father, in waylaying him and stealing the tin box, had acted under the direction of Smith, and that probably the box was at that very moment in the possession of the superior villain.

"If I could only find the box and escape with it," thought Rufus, "that would set me right with Mr. Turner."

But there seemed little chance of that. It did not seem very probable even that he could escape from the room in which he was confined, much less carry out the plan he had in view.

While he was thinking over his situation, the key turned in the lock, and the door was opened. Rufus looked up, expecting to see Martin; but instead of his step-father there entered the boy already referred to as Humpy.

Humpy carried in his hand a plate of meat and vegetables.

"Here's your dinner," he said, laying the plate down, while he locked the door behind him.

"Look here, Johnny," said Rufus, "you served me a mean trick."

Humpy chuckled.

"You came in just as innocent," he said. "It was jolly."

"Maybe it is, but I don't see it. You told me a lie."

"Didn't you find the man you was after?" said Humpy.

"You told me he was sick."

"So he is. He's in delicate health, and couldn't go to business to-day."

"What is his business?" asked Rufus, a little too eagerly.

Humpy put his thumbs to his nose, and twirled his fingers with a grin of intelligence.

"Don't you wish you knew?" he said tantalizingly.

"Do you know anything about the tin box?" asked Rufus, seeing that his former question was not likely to be answered.

"Maybe I do."

"It's in this house."

"Oh, is it? Well, if you know that, there's no use of my telling you."

"I can't make much of him," thought Rufus. "He's a young imp, and it isn't easy to get round him."

He looked at Humpy meditatively, and it occurred to him whether it would not be well to spring upon him, snatch the key, release himself from the room, and dash downstairs. So far as the boy was concerned, this plan was practicable. Rufus was much his superior in strength, and could master him without difficulty. But, doubtless, Martin and Smith were below. They would hear the noise of the struggle, and would cut off his flight. Evidently that plan would not work. Another suggested itself to him.

"Johnny," said he, "don't you want to make some money?"

Here he attacked the boy on his weak side. Humpy was fond of money. He had already scraped together about twenty dollars from the meagre pay he received, and had it carefully secreted.

"Of course I do," he answered. "How'm I to do it?"

"I'll tell you. That tin box contained property of value. It doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Mr. Turner, the banker. I was trying to recover it when you got me to come in here this morning. Now what I want to say, is this. Get that tin box for me, and help me to get away with it, and it'll be worth fifty dollars to you."

Fifty dollars! Humpy's eyes sparkled when he heard the sum named; but prudence came to his aid, fortified by suspicion.

"Who's a-goin' to pay it?" he asked.

"Mr. Turner."

"S'posin' he don't?"

"Then I will."

"Where'd you raise the money?"

"I'm not rich, but I'm worth a good deal more than that. I'd rather pay it out of my own pocket than not get back that box."

But if Humpy was fond of money, he had also a rude sense of honor, which taught him to be faithful to his employer. He did want the money, and then there was something in our hero's look that made him pretty sure that he would keep his promise. So he put away the seductive temptation, though reluctantly.

"I aint a-goin' to do it," he said, doggedly.

"Perhaps you'll think better of it," said Rufus, who, in spite of the boy's manner, saw the struggle in his mind. "If you do, just let me know."

"I've got to be goin'," said Humpy, and, unlocking the door, he went out, locking it again directly.

Rufus turned his attention to the dinner, which he found of good quality. Despite his imprisonment, his appetite was excellent, and he ate all there was of it.

"I must keep up my strength at any rate," he said to himself; "I may need it."

Meanwhile, as there was no longer anything to dread, Rufus being a prisoner, Martin went out in the service of his employer.

"Now," thought he, reflecting with satisfaction on his signal triumph over Rufus, "if I only knew where Rose was, I'd go after her, and her brother shouldn't get hold of her again in a hurry. He's got enough to do to take care of himself."

This was pleasant to think about; but Martin had not the least idea where Rose was, and was not likely to find out.

Meanwhile something happened in the counterfeiter's den, which was destined to prove of advantage to Rufus.

Smith sent Humpy out on an errand. The boy was detained unavoidably, and returned an hour later than he was expected. Smith was already in an ill-temper, which the late return of his emissary aggravated.

"What made you so late?" he demanded, with lowering brow.

"I couldn't help it," said Humpy.

"Don't tell me that!" roared Smith. "You stopped to play on the way; I know you did."

"No, I didn't," said Humpy, angrily.

"Do you dare to contradict me, you villanous little humpback?" screamed Smith. "I'll teach you to do it again."

He clutched the boy by the collar, and, seizing a horsewhip, brought it down with terrible force on the boy's shrinking form.

"Let me go! Don't beat me!" screamed Humpy, in mingled fear and rage.

"Not till I've cured you," retorted Smith. Twice more he struck the humpbacked boy with the whip, and then threw him on the floor.

"That's what you get for contradicting me," he said.

The boy rose slowly and painfully, and limped out of the room. His face was pale, but his heart was filled with a burning sense of humiliation and anger against the man who had assaulted him. It would have been well for Smith if he had controlled himself better, for the boy was not one of the forgiving kind, but harbored resentment with an Indian-like tenacity, and was resolved to be revenged.

He crawled upstairs to the small attic room in which he usually slept, and, entering, threw himself upon the bed, face downward, where he burst into a passion of grief, shame, and rage, which shook his crooked form convulsively. This lasted for fifteen minutes, when he became more quiet.

Then he got up slowly, and, going to a corner of the room, lifted up a board from which the nails appeared to have been drawn out, and drew from beneath a calico bag. This he opened, and exposed to view a miscellaneous collection of coins, which he took out and counted.

"Twenty dollars and nineteen cents!" he said to himself. "I've been more'n a year gettin' it. That boy offers me fifty dollars,—most three times as much,—if I'll get him the tin box and help him to escape. I said I wouldn't do it; but he hadn't struck me then. He hadn't called me a villanous humpback. Now he's got to pay for it. He'll wish he hadn't done it;" and the boy clenched his fist, and shook it vindictively. "Now, how'll I get the box?"

He sat on the bed thinking for some time, then, composing his countenance, he went downstairs. He resolved to assume his usual manner, in order not to excite Smith's suspicion.

Smith had by this time got over his rage, and was rather sorry he had struck the boy so brutally, for he knew very well that Humpy might prove a dangerous enemy. He glanced at Humpy's face when he came downstairs, but saw nothing unusual.

"Oh, he'll forget all about it," he thought to himself.

"Here's ten cents, Humpy," he said. "Maybe I struck you too hard. Go and buy yourself some candy."

"Thank you," said the boy, taking the money.

"I've another errand for you."

He told what it was.

"Go and come back as soon as possible."

Humpy went quietly, and returned in good season.

About five o'clock, Martin not yet having returned, Smith directed him to carry up our hero's supper. There was a little exultant sparkle in the boy's eye, as he took the plate of buttered bread, and started to go upstairs.

"So it's you, is it?" said Rufus, on the boy's entrance. "Where is Martin?"

"He aint come in yet. Do you want to see him?"

"No, I'm not particular about it."

Humpy stood looking earnestly at Rufus while he was eating the bread and butter. At length he said, "I've been thinkin' over what you said to me at dinner-time. Shall I get the fifty dollars certain sure if I do what you want?"

"Yes," said Rufus, eagerly. "Get me the tin box, and help me to escape, and the money shall be yours."

"Honor bright?"

"Honor bright."

CHAPTER XXI.
SUSPENSE

Rufus generally reached his boarding-house at half-past five o'clock. Sometimes Rose and her two young companions were playing in Washington Park at that time, and ran to meet him when he appeared in sight. But on the night of our hero's capture by Martin they waited for him in vain.

"Where can Rufie be?" thought Rose, as she heard six o'clock peal from a neighboring church-tower.

She thought he might have gone by without her seeing him, and with this idea, as it was already the hour for dinner, she went into the house. She ran upstairs two steps at a time, and opened the door of her own room.

"You should not have stayed out so late, Rose," said Miss Manning. "You will hardly have time to get ready for dinner."

"I was waiting for Rufie. Has he come?"

"No; he seems to be late to-night."

"I am afraid he's got run over," said Rose anxiously.

"Rufus is old enough to take care of himself. I've no doubt he's quite safe."

"Then what makes him so late?"

"He is probably detained by business. But there is the bell. We must go down to dinner."

"Can't we wait for Rufie?"

"No, my dear child; we cannot tell when he will be home."

"It don't seem a bit pleasant to eat dinner without Rufie," complained Rose.

"It isn't often he stays, Rose. He'll tell us all about it when he comes."

They went down and took their seats at the dinner-table.

"Where is your brother, Rose?" asked Mrs. Clifton.

"He hasn't got home," said Rose, rather disconsolately.

"I am sorry for that. He is a very agreeable young man. If I wasn't married," simpered Mrs. Clifton, "I should set my cap for him. But I mustn't say that, or Mr. Clifton will be jealous."

"Oh, don't mind me!" said Mr. Clifton, carelessly. "It won't spoil my appetite."

"I don't think there's anything that would spoil your appetite," said his wife, rather sharply, for she would have been flattered by her husband's jealousy.

"Just so," said Mr. Clifton, coolly. "May I trouble you for some chicken, Mrs. Clayton?"

"You're a great deal too old for Rufie, Mrs. Clifton," said Rose, with more plainness than politeness.

"I'm not quite so young as you are, Rose," said Mrs. Clifton, somewhat annoyed. "How old do you think I am?"

"Most fifty," answered Rose, honestly.

"Mercy sake!" exclaimed Mrs. Clifton, horrified, "what a child you are! Why don't you say a hundred, and done with it?"

"How old are you, Mrs. Clifton?" persisted Rose.

"Well, if you must know, I shall be twenty-five next November."

Mrs. Clifton was considerably nearer thirty-five; but, then, some ladies are very apt to be forgetful of their age.

The dinner-hour passed, and Rose and Miss Manning left the table. They went upstairs hoping that Rufus might be there before them; but the room was empty. An hour and a half passed, and it was already beyond eight, the hour at which Rose usually went to bed.

"Can't I sit up a little later to-night, Miss Manning?" pleaded Rose. "I want to see Rufie."

"No, Rose, I think not. You'll see him in the morning."

So Rose unwillingly undressed and went to bed.

By this time Miss Manning began to wonder a little why Rufus did not appear. It seemed to her rather strange that he should be detained by business till after eight o'clock, and she thought that an accident might possibly have happened to him. Still Rufus was a strong, manly boy, well able to take care of himself, and this was not probable.

When ten o'clock came, and he had not yet made his appearance, she went downstairs. The door of the hall bedroom, which Rufus occupied, was open and empty. This she saw on the way. In the hall below she met Mrs. Clayton.

"Rufus has not yet come in?" she said, interrogatively.

"No, I have not seen him. I saved some dinner for him, thinking he might have been detained."

"I can't think why he doesn't come home. I think he must be here soon. Do you know if he has a latch-key?"

"Yes, he got a new one of me the other day. Perhaps he has gone to some place of amusement."

"He would not go without letting us know beforehand. He would know we would feel anxious."

"Yes, he is more considerate than most young men of his age. I don't think you need feel anxious about him."

Miss Manning went upstairs disappointed. She began to feel perplexed and anxious. Suppose something should happen to Rufus, what would they do? Rose would refuse to be comforted. She was glad the little girl was asleep, otherwise she would be asking questions which she would be unable to answer. It was now her hour for retiring, but she resolved to sit up a little longer. More than an hour passed, and still Rufus did not come. It seemed unlikely that he would return that night, and Miss Manning saw that it was useless to sit up longer. It was possible, however, that he might have come in, and gone at once to his room, thinking it too late to disturb them. But, on going down to the next floor, she saw that his room was still unoccupied.

Rose woke up early in the morning; Miss Manning was already awake.

"Did Rufie come last night?" asked the little girl.

"He had not come when I went to bed," was the answer. "Perhaps he came in afterwards."

"May I dress and go down and see?"

"Yes, if you would like to."

Rose dressed quicker than usual, and went downstairs. She came up again directly, with a look of disappointment.

"Miss Manning, he is not here," she said. "His chamber door is open, and I saw that he had not slept in his bed."

"Very likely Mr. Turner sent him out of the city on business," said Miss Manning, with an indifference which she did not feel.

"I wish he'd come," said Rose. "I shall give him a good scolding, when he gets home, for staying away so long."

"Has not Mr. Rushton come?" asked Mrs. Clayton, at the breakfast-table.

"Not yet. I suppose he is detained by business."

Just after breakfast, Miss Manning, as usual, took the three little girls out in the Park to play. It was their custom to come in about nine o'clock to study. This morning, however, their governess went to Mrs. Colman and said, "I should like to take this morning, if you have no objection. I am feeling a little anxious about Rufus, who did not come home last night. I would like to go to the office where he is employed, and inquire whether he has been sent out of town on any errand."

"Certainly, Miss Manning. The little girls can go out and play in the Park while you are gone."

"Thank you."

"Where are you going, Miss Manning?" asked Rose, seeing that the governess was preparing to go out.

"I am going to Rufie's office to see why he stayed away."

"May I go with you?" asked Rose, eagerly.

"No, Rose, you had better stay at home. The streets are very crowded down town, and I shouldn't like to venture to cross Broadway with you. You can go and play in the Park."

"And shan't we have any lessons?"

"Not this morning."

"That will be nice," said Rose, who, like most girls of her age, enjoyed a holiday.

Miss Manning walked to Broadway, and took a stage. That she knew would carry her as far as Wall Street, only a few rods from Mr. Turner's office. She had seldom been in a stage, the stage fare being higher than in the cars, and even four cents made a difference to her. She would have enjoyed the brilliant scene which Broadway always presents, with its gay shop-windows and hurrying multitudes, if her mind had not been preoccupied. At length Trinity spire came in sight. When they reached the great church which forms so prominent a landmark in the lower part of Broadway, she got out, and turned into Wall Street.

It did not take her long to find Mr. Turner's number. She had never been there before, and had never met Mr. Turner, and naturally felt a little diffident about going into the office. It was on the second floor. She went up the stairway, and timidly entered. She looked about her, but Rufus was not to be seen. At first no one noticed her; but finally a clerk, with a pen behind his ear, came out from behind the line of desks.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" he asked.

"Is Rufus Rushton here?" she inquired.

"No, he is not."

"Was he here yesterday?"

"He's out of the office just now, on some business of Mr. Turner's. That's Mr. Turner, if you would like to speak to him."

Miss Manning turned, and saw Mr. Turner just entering the office. He was a pleasant-looking man, and this gave her courage to address him.

"Mr. Turner," she said, "I came to ask about Rufus Rushton. He did not come home last night, and I am feeling anxious about him."

"Indeed!" said the banker, "I am surprised to hear that. It leads me to think that he may have found a clue to the stolen box."

"The stolen box!" repeated Miss Manning, in surprise.

"Yes; did he not tell you of it?"

"No, sir."

Mr. Turner briefly related the particulars already known to the reader. "I think," he said, in conclusion, "Rufus must have tracked the man Martin, and—"

"Martin!" interrupted Miss Manning. "Was he the thief?"

"Yes, so Rufus tells me. Do you know him?"

"I have good reason to. He is a very bad man. I hope he has not got Rufus in his power."

"I don't think you need feel apprehensive. Rufus is a smart boy, and knows how to take care of himself. He'll come out right, I have no doubt."

"I am glad to hear you say so, Mr. Turner. I will bid you good-morning, with thanks for your kindness."

"If Rufus comes in this morning, I will let him go home at once, that your anxiety may be relieved."

With this assurance Miss Manning departed. She had learned something, but, in spite of the banker's assurance, she felt troubled. She knew Martin was a bad man, and she was afraid Rufus would come to harm.

CHAPTER XXII.
MARTIN GROWS SUSPICIOUS

Our hero's interview with Humpy gave him new courage. When he had felt surrounded by enemies the chances seemed against him. Now he had a friend in the house, who was interested in securing his escape. Not only this, but there was a fair chance of recovering the box for which he was seeking. On the whole, therefore, Rufus was in very good spirits.

About nine o'clock he heard a step on the stairs, which he recognized as that of his step-father. He had good reason to remember that step. Many a time while his mother was alive, and afterwards while they were living in Leonard Street, he had listened to it coming up the rickety staircase, and dreaded the entrance of the man whose presence was never welcome.

After some fumbling at the lock the door opened, and Martin entered. It was dark, and he could not at first see Rufus.

"Where are you, you young villain?" he inquired, with a hiccough.

Rufus did not see fit to answer when thus addressed.

"Where are you, I say?" repeated Martin.

"Here I am," answered Rufus.

"Why didn't you speak before? Didn't you hear me?" demanded his step-father, angrily.

"Yes, Mr. Martin, I heard you," said Rufus, composedly.

"Then why didn't you answer?"

"Because you called me a young villain."

"Well, you are one."

Rufus did not answer.

Martin locked the door and put the key in his pocket. He next struck a match, and lit the gas. Then seating himself in a rocking-chair, still with his hat on, he looked at Rufus with some curiosity, mingled with triumph.

"I hope you like your accommodations," he said.

"Pretty well."

"We don't charge you nothing for board, you see, and you haven't any work to do. That's what I call living like a gentleman."

"I believe you tried the same kind of life at Blackwell's Island," said Rufus.

"Look here," said Martin, roughly, "you'd better not insult me. I didn't come here to be insulted."

"What did you come for, then?" asked Rufus.

"I thought you'd like to know how Rose was," answered Martin.

"I don't believe you have seen her."

"Well, you needn't believe it. Perhaps I didn't meet her on the street, and follow her home. She begged me to tell her where you was; but I couldn't do it."

Rufus felt a temporary uneasiness when he heard this statement; but there was something in Martin's manner which convinced him that he had not been telling the truth. He decided to change the subject.

"Mr. Martin," he said, "have you made up your mind to give up that tin box?"

"No I haven't. I can't spare it."

"If you will give it up, I will see that you are not punished for taking it."

"I aint a-goin' to be punished for taking it."

"You certainly will be if you are caught."

"What do you know about it?"

"There was a man convicted of the same thing three months ago, and he got five years for it."

"I don't believe it," said Martin, uneasily.

"You needn't if you don't want to."

"I haven't got the box now, so I couldn't give it back. Smith's got it."

"Is that the man I saw this morning?"

"Yes."

"Then you'd better ask him to give it back to you."

"He wouldn't do it if I asked him."

"Then I'm sorry for you."

Martin was not very brave, and in spite of his assertions he felt uneasy at what Rufus was saying. Besides, he felt rather afraid of our hero. He knew that Rufus was a resolute, determined boy, and that he could not keep him confined forever. Some time he would get out, and Martin feared that he would set the officers on his track. The remark of Smith that he would make a good boy for their business occurred to him, and he determined to try him on a new tack. If he could get him compromised by a connection with their business, it would be for his interest also to keep clear of the police.

"Rufus," said Martin, edging his chair towards our hero, "I'm your friend."

Rufus was rather astonished at this sudden declaration.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said; "but I don't think you've treated me in a very friendly manner."

"About the tin box?"

"Yes, partly that. If you're my friend, you will return it, and not keep me locked up here."

"Never mind, Rufus, I've got a business proposal to make to you. You're a smart boy."

"I am glad you think so."

"And I can give you a chance to make a good living."

"I am making a good living now, or I was before you interfered with me."

"How much did you earn a week?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Was it over ten dollars a week?"

"About that."

"I know a business that will pay you fifteen dollars a week."

"What is it?"

"It is the one I'm in. I earn a hundred dollars a month."

"If you are earning as much as that, I shouldn't think you'd need to steal tin boxes."

"There wasn't much in it. Only a hundred dollars in money."

"You are not telling me the truth. There were four hundred dollars in it."

"What was that you said?" asked Martin, pricking up his ears.

"There were four hundred dollars in it."

"How do you know?"

"Mr. Turner told me so."

"Smith told me there were only a hundred. He opened it, and gave me half."

"Then he gave you fifty, and kept three hundred and fifty himself."

"If I thought that, I'd smash his head!" said Martin, angrily. "Make me run all the risk, and then cheat me out of my hard earnin's. Do you call that fair?"

"I think he's been cheating you," said Rufus, not sorry to see Martin's anger with his confederate.

"It's a mean trick," said Martin, indignantly. "I'd ought to have got two hundred. It was worth it."

"I wouldn't do what you did for a good deal more than two hundred dollars. You haven't told me what that business was that I could earn fifteen dollars a week at."

"No," said Martin, "I've changed my mind about it. If Smith's goin' to serve me such a mean trick, I won't work for him no longer. I'll speak to him about it to-morrow."

Martin relapsed into silence. Rufus had given him something to think about, which disturbed him considerably. Though he had been disappointed in the contents of the box, he had not for a moment doubted the good faith of his confederate, and he was proportionately incensed now that the latter had appropriated seven dollars to his one. Considering that he had done all the work, and incurred all the danger, it did seem rather hard.

There was one bed in the room, rather a narrow one.

"I'm goin' to bed," said Martin, at length. "I guess the bed'll be big enough for us both."

"Thank you," said Rufus, who did not fancy the idea of sleeping with his step-father. "If you'll give me one of the pillows, I'll sleep on the floor."

"Just as you say, but you'll find it rather hard sleepin'."

"I shan't mind."

This was the arrangement they adopted. Martin took off his coat and vest, and threw himself on the bed. He was soon asleep, as his heavy breathing clearly indicated. Rufus, stretched on the floor, lay awake longer. It occurred to him that he might easily take the key of the door from the pocket of Martin's vest, which lay on the chair at his bedside, and so let himself out of the room. But even then it would be uncertain whether he could get out of the house, and he would have to leave the tin box behind him. This he hoped to get hold of through Humpy's assistance. On the whole, therefore, it seemed best to wait a little longer.