t quite understand what he proposed to do, but he felt
better acquainted with the outlaw now, and he knew that there was no
cause for apprehension. He accordingly approached without question.

James Fox bandaged his eyes so that he could see nothing. Then he took
him by the hand and led him forward.

Ernest could not tell what was being done, but he found himself
walking on a rocky path, hand in hand with his guide. How long he
walked he could not tell. It might have been two hundred feet. Then
his guide stopped, and of course he stopped, too.

Next the handkerchief was removed, and he found himself in what seemed
a rocky cavern. At any rate it was a large room, of irregular shape,
but the stone floor had been made smooth, and was covered by a soft
carpet. It was furnished like a sitting-room in a private house. There
were comfortable chairs, including a rocking-chair, and a capacious
arm-chair. On one side of the room was an inviting-looking couch.

Of course there would have been perfect darkness but for artificial
light. On a table was a large student's lamp, and in a niche in the
wall was another. Besides this, there was a lantern hanging from the
roof of the chamber, but this was not lighted.

Ernest looked about him with curiosity and surprise. It was something
new to him, and recalled a story he had once read, in which a
cave-dwelling was described.

"Well, what do you think of it?" asked the outlaw, smiling.

"It is wonderful," said Ernest.

"You did not know where I was bringing you?"

"No. It is a cave, is it not?"

"Well, it looks like it."

"There are other rooms, are there not?"

"Yes, but this is my private apartment; my parlor, you may call it.
This is my sleeping-room."

He drew aside the hangings on the further side and revealed an inner
chamber, of less size.

On a bed Ernest's attention was drawn to the figure of a sleeping boy
evidently the original of the picture which the outlaw had shown him.

"That is your son?" asked Ernest.

"Yes, that is Frank."

The outlaw's stern countenance softened as he regarded the sleeping
boy.

Suddenly the boy stirred; he opened his eyes, and when he recognized
his father a glad smile lighted up his innocent face.

"Papa!" he said, and James Fox bent over and kissed him.

CHAPTER XVII.

IN THE ROBBER'S CAVE.

After kissing his father the young boy looked inquisitively at Ernest.

"Who is that boy, papa?" he asked.

"I have brought