ed the grip to Grimsby. The latter slowly
opened it, and brought forth a box, wrapped up in paper. He untied the
string, and held forth a box of chocolates for Eben's inspection.

"Like one, eh?"

"Y'bet. Me mouth's waterin'."

"Then, it'll have to water. These are for a prettier mouth than yours,
let me tell you that. My! you should see her, 'specially when she's
eating candy."

"Your wife?" Eben asked.

Grimsby shook with laughter, as he carefully placed the paper back upon
the box, and returned it to the grip.

"No, no, no, not for my wife this time, Eben. It's for someone else, a
special friend of mine. She's up river now, and I'm going to see her.
She's in a class all by herself, though just now, poor girl, she's in
trouble."

"She is?" Eben was becoming interested.

"Yes, she ran away from home, you see, and her folks don't know where
she is. Why, what's wrong, boy? You look scared."

"D'ye mean Miss Randall?" Eben asked. "Are them choc'lates fer her?"

"Ah, you're a good hand at a guess, Eben," and Grimsby smiled. "Yes,
I'm taking them to her. She'd never forgive me if I forgot them. Why,
I've known Jess Randall ever since she was a baby," he lied. "She
calls me 'Uncle Gabe.'"

"She does!" Eben was more impressed than ever with Grimsby.

"Oh, yes, she's a great friend of mine. She must be waiting for me
now, so you can pull up and run me ashore when we get there. She
phoned to me to come at once, as she wants to see me on special
business."

"I'm goin' to stop, anyway," Eben replied. "Dad'll be waitin' fer me.
He went ashore with ma."

It was only with difficulty that Grimsby repressed a chuckle of
delight. He could hardly believe it possible that Eben had fallen so
easily into his snare. But as he glanced at the boy he saw not the
slightest sign of suspicion upon his face. Eben's hands were upon the
wheel, and his eyes were fixed upon a steamer coming down river.
Grimsby was certain now that Miss Randall was at Mrs. Hampton's. So
far he had met with remarkable success. He wondered how much further
he dare go.

"Guess it'll he some wedding," he ventured. "I'll have to get a brand
new suit."

"What weddin'?" Eben asked.

"Why, don't you know? Miss Randall's, of course. She's going to marry
Lord Donaster, that swell dude of a chap."

"She's not!" The words snapped, from Eben's lips, and his hands
gripped hard upon the wheel as he swung the boat somewhat to the le