Jack's Ward; Or, The Boy Guardian by Jr. Horatio Alger (the false prince series .TXT) 📖

upon your proposal," said Jack. "It is of so important a character that I don't like to decide at once."

"How long do you require?"

"Two days. Suppose I join you, shall I get good pay?"

"Excellent," answered Foley. "In fact, you'll be better paid than a boy of your age would be anywhere else."

"That's worth thinking about," said Jack, gravely. "My father is poor, and I've got my own way to make."

"You couldn't have a better opening. You're a smart lad, and will be sure to succeed."

"Well, I'll think of it. If I should make up my mind before the end of two days, I will let you know."

"Very well. You can't do better."

"But there's one thing I want to ask about," said Jack, with pretended anxiety. "It's pretty risky business, isn't it?"

"I've been in the business ten years, and they haven't got hold of me yet," answered Foley. "All you've got to do is to be careful."

"He'll join," said Foley to himself. "He's a smart fellow, and we can make him useful. It'll be the best way to dispose of one who might get us into trouble."

CHAPTER XXX JACK'S TRIUMPH

The next day Jack had another visit from Foley. "Well," said the old man, nodding, "have you thought over my proposal?"

"What should I have to do?" asked Jack.

"Sometimes one thing, and sometimes another. At first we might employ you to put off some of the bills."

"That would be easy work, anyway," said Jack.

"Yes, there is nothing hard about that, except to look innocent."

"I can do that," said Jack, laughing.

"You're smart; I can tell by the looks of you."

"Do you really think so?" returned Jack, appearing flattered.

"Yes; you'll make one of our best hands."

"I suppose Mrs. Hardwick is in your employ?"

"Perhaps she is, and perhaps she isn't," said Foley, noncommittally. "That is something you don't need to know."

"Oh, I don't care to know," said Jack, carelessly. "I only asked. I was afraid you would set me to work down in the cellar."

"You don't know enough about the business. We need skilled workmen. You couldn't do us any good there."

"I shouldn't like it, anyway. It must be unpleasant to be down there."

"We pay the workmen you saw good pay."

"Yes, I suppose so. When do you want me to begin?"

"I can't tell you just yet. I'll think about it."

"I hope it'll be soon, for I'm tired of staying here. By the way, that's a capital idea about the secret staircase. Who'd ever think the portrait concealed it?" said Jack.

As he spoke he advanced to the portrait in an easy, natural manner, and touched the spring.

Of course it flew open. The old man also drew near.

"That was my idea," he said, in a complacent tone. "Of course we have to keep everything as secret as possible, and I flatter myself—"

His remark came to a sudden pause. He had incautiously got between Jack and the open door. Now our hero, who was close upon eighteen, and strongly built, was considerably more than a match in physical strength for Foley. He suddenly seized the old man, thrust him through the aperture, then closed the secret door, and sprang for the door of the room.

The key was in the lock where Foley, whose confidence made him careless, had left it. Turning it, he hurried downstairs, meeting no one on the way. To open the front door and dash through it was the work of an instant. As he descended the stairs he could hear the muffled shout of the old man whom he had made prisoner, but this only caused him to accelerate his speed.

Jack now directed his course as well as he could toward his uncle's shop. One thing, however, he did not forget, and that was to note carefully the position of the shop in which he had been confined.

"I shall want to make another visit there," he reflected.

Meantime, as may well be supposed, Abel Harding had suffered great anxiety on account of Jack's protracted absence. Several days had elapsed and still he was missing.

"I am afraid something has happened to Jack," he remarked to his wife on the afternoon of Jack's escape. "I think Jack was probably rash and imprudent, and I fear, poor boy, he may have come to harm."

"He may be confined by the parties who have taken his sister."

"It is possible that it is no worse. At all events, I don't think it right to keep it from Timothy any longer. I've put off writing as long as I could, hoping Jack would come back, but I don't feel as if it would be right to hold it back any longer. I shall write this evening."

"Better wait till morning, Abel. Who knows but we may hear from Jack before that time?"

"If we'd been going to hear we'd have heard before this," he said.

Just at that moment the door was flung open.

"Why, it's Jack!" exclaimed the baker, amazed.

"I should say it was," returned Jack. "Aunt, have you got anything to eat? I'm 'most famished."

"Where in the name of wonder have you been, Jack?"

"I've been shut up, uncle—boarded and lodged for nothing—by some people who liked my company better than I liked theirs. But I've just made my escape, and here I am, well, hearty and hungry."

Jack's appetite was soon provided for. He found time between the mouthfuls to describe the secret staircase, and his discovery of the unlawful occupation of the man who acted as his jailer.

The baker listened with eager interest.

"Jack," said he, "you've done a good stroke of business."

"In getting away?" said Jack.

"No, in ferreting out these counterfeiters. Do you know there is a reward of a thousand dollars offered for their apprehension?"

"You don't say so!" exclaimed Jack, laying