by Fred Thorpe
CHAPTER XXIX.
A DANGEROUS JOB AHEAD.
The reverend gentleman started; a decidedly uneasy expression appearedupon his face.
"I don't know you, young gentleman," he said.
"Oh, you can't have forgotten me, Mr. Ferguson," said Al. "My name isAllston; don't you remember the interesting conversation we had on thetrain this morning?"
"Ahem! I think I do recognize you now."
"I thought you would. Isn't this rather early for you to be out, Mr.Ferguson?"
"I have not yet returned to my home; I have been on an errand of mercy.And now I must ask you to excuse me, for I am greatly fatigued."
"Wait a minute."
"Well, what is it?"
"I suppose you have often heard it said that justice and mercy ought togo hand in hand."
"It is a very true saying, my lad."
"Well, you say you have just been on an errand of mercy; suppose you nowperform an act of justice."
"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Ferguson, uneasily.
"I guess you know. I mean that I want you to hand back the money andjewelry that you stole from me."
"Do you mean to insult me, or are you mad?" almost shouted the allegedclergyman. "Do you dare accuse me, me, David Ferguson, of theft?"
"That's about the size of it," replied Al, coolly. "And, remember, Iknow now that your name is no more David Ferguson than mine is."
"Do you dare----" began the fellow.
"That'll do," interrupted Al. "Bluff will not work with me. Are yougoing to return my property?"
He had not uttered the last word when "Mr. Ferguson" abruptly turned onhis heel and started to run.
He did not go far, however. Out went Al's foot, and the next moment theadventurer lay sprawling on the pavement. He was helped to his feet byAl and the brakeman, who both kept a tight hold on him.
The sanctimonious expression had entirely vanished from the fellow'sface, which now wore a look of rage and fear.
The transformation was wonderful; he did not seem the same man.
"Well," he said, "what are you going to do about it?"
"I'm going to hand you over to the police in short order if you don'treturn my property."
"If I give it all back," demanded the man, "will you agree not to makeany charge against me?"
"Don't agree to anything of the sort," interrupted the belligerentbrakeman.
But Al said:
"I ought not to do it, but I have no time to attend to the case, so, ifyou hand back what you took from me you can go."
"Mr. Ferguson" fished the roll of bills from his pocket and handed it toAl, who carefully counted it.
"Now, the watch and ring," he said.
The "crook" produced the timepiece and gave it to its owner.
"I can't return the ring," he whined.
"Why can't you?"
"I've pawned it."
"Give me the ticket, then."
"I can't do that, either."
"How is that?"
"I've lost it."
"Well," said Al, "that's unlucky--for you. Now, see here, my reverendfriend, I have no more time to waste. If your story is true, you'll comealong with me to the police station. If it is a lie, which I believe,you had better hand over that ring in quick time."
"I----"
"I advise you to hurry, for here comes a policeman, and if the ring isnot on my finger by the time he gets here, I shall hand you over to himas sure as I am standing here."
The "crook" hesitated no longer.
"Here you are, then," he said.
As he spoke, he thrust the ring into Al's hand.
"Now," he asked, in a voice that trembled with nervousness, "may I getout?"
"Skip," responded Al, laconically.
In less than ten seconds the fellow had disappeared from view.
The brakeman extended his hand to his companion.
"I have wronged you," he said.
"That's what I told you," replied Al, quietly, "but you wouldn't take myword for it."
"I hope you'll accept my apology."
"Of course I will; and you must accept your money back."
And the boy handed his companion a ten-dollar bill.
"I hope you don't feel hard toward me?" persisted the man.
"Not at all," Al responded, readily. "You were very kind to offer me themoney at the depot. I was a perfect stranger to you."
"But I sized you up as a square lad."
"It didn't take you long to change your mind, though."
"You must admit that I had some reason to change it."
"I do admit it. Appearances were very much against me, and if I had beenin your place I should, very likely, have thought just what you did."
"Nevertheless, I'm sorry I was so hasty. Now, see here, young fellow,I've taken a liking to you--honest, I have. I'd like to help you. Now, Ihave an idea that you are in some sort of trouble."
"You are not far out of the way there," admitted the boy.
"Of course, it's none of my business, and I'm not one of the sort thatcares much about other people's affairs; but--but what is your trouble?I only ask, thinking that I may be able to help you in some way."
Al hesitated, then said:
"I need help badly enough, but I don't see what you could do. However, Iwill tell you why I am in New York."
In a few words he told the story of his sister's abduction. When heexplained why he had left the depot so suddenly his companioninterrupted him.
"Why," he cried, excitedly, "I saw the cab that you wanted to follow! Ican tell you just where you can find its driver, too."
"You can?"
"Yes. As it happens, he is an old friend of mine, and there isn't muchthat he won't do for me. He drives for a stable up on Fifth Avenue, buthe ought to be home by this time. I can get a good deal more informationout of him than they would give you if you went up to the stables. Doyou want to go round to his house with me now and see if he is in?"
"Is it far from here?"
"Not ten minutes' walk."
"Let us go, then. But, perhaps, we ought to go to a police stationfirst."
"We shall pass one on our way there. Come on; I'll bet that you won't besorry you met me."
Within five minutes Al had given a description of his sister to thepolice, and an alarm was about to be sent out when he left the station.
"Now, to see my friend, Tim Story," said the brakeman, "who, if I am notmistaken, will be able to give us as much information in five minutes asthe police will gain in twenty-four hours."
Tim Story's home proved to be a floor in a West-Side tenement. Thecabman had just returned home, and did not seem to be in a verycommunicative mood. But in a few minutes Al's new friend had obtainedinformation from him that gave the boy a new hope.
"We have found her!" he exclaimed. "How can I thank you?"
"Don't thank me yet," was the reply. "Remember the old saying, 'There'smany a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip.' You have a dangerous job aheadof you, my boy."
