secrets more
than ever.

"I'm ready," he said. "I'll take the oath."

"Very well, you understand now what it means. Put your hand on the book,
and repeat after me: 'I solemnly swear, on the penalty of death by
pistol or knife, never to reveal any secret I may have imparted to me in
this room.'"

Martin repeated this formula, not without a certain shrinking, not to
say creeping, of the flesh.

"Now that you have taken the oath," said Smith, "we will tell you our
secret."

"Yes," said Martin, eagerly.

"The fact is," said Smith, in a low voice, "we are counterfeiters."

"You don't say so!" ejaculated Martin.

"Yes, there's a light, genteel business for you. There are all ways of
making a living, and that isn't the worst."

"Does it pay pretty well?" asked Martin, getting interested.

"Yes, it's a money-making business," said Smith, with a laugh; "but
there's a little prejudice against it, and so we have a very quiet place
of business."

"Yes, I see," said Martin.

"You see the world owes us a living," continued Smith, "as you remarked
this morning, and if it doesn't come in one way, it must in another."

"Isn't it dangerous?" asked Martin.

"Not if it's carefully managed."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Supply money to our agents chiefly. It won't do to have too many come
to the house, for it might excite suspicion. You will come every
morning, receive money and directions from one of us, and then do as you
are bid."

"How much will you give me?"

"What do you say to a hundred dollars a month?"

"In good money," said Martin, his eyes sparkling with pleasure.

"No, of course not. In money of our manufacture."

Martin's countenance fell.

"First thing I know I'll be nabbed," he said.

"Not if you are careful. We'll give you instructions. Do you accept our
terms?"

"Yes," said Martin, unhesitatingly.

"Of course you take a risk. No gain without risk, you know. But if you
are unlucky, remember your oath, and don't betray us. If you do, you're
a dead man within twenty-four hours from the time you leave the prison.
There are twenty men bound by a solemn oath to revenge treachery by
death. If you betray our secret, nothing can save you. Do you
understand?"

"Yes," said Martin, whose mind was suitably impressed with the absolute
necessity of silence. The representations of his new friends might or
might not be true, but, at all events, he believed them to be in
earnest, and their point was g