disappearance of her cousin, and he----"

"That reminds me," interrupted Bolton. "He told Hooker--Hooker was the
man that saw him in front of the Astor House--that he didn't believe I
was his father. He said he thought I must have stolen him when he was
a young kid."

"Did he say that?" asked Curtis, in evident alarm.

"Yes, so Hooker says."

"If he has that idea in his head, he may put two and two together, and
guess that he is the long-lost cousin of Florence. Tim, the boy must
be got rid of."

"If you mean what I think you do, Mr. Waring, I'm not with you. I
won't consent to harm the boy."

"You said that before. I don't mean anything that will shock your
tender heart, Bolton," said Curtis, with a sneer. "I mean carried to a
distance--Europe or Australia, for instance. All I want is to keep him
out of New York till my uncle is dead. After that I don't care what
becomes of him."

"That's better. I've no objection to that. How is the old gentleman?"

"He grieved so much at first over the girl's loss, that I feared he
would insist on her being recalled at once. I soothed him by telling
him that he had only to remain firm, and she would come around, and
yield to his wishes."

"Do you think she will?" asked Tim, doubtfully.

"I intend she shall!" said Curtis, significantly. "Bolton, I love the
girl all the more for her obstinate refusal to wed me. I have made up
my mind to marry her with her consent, or without it."

"I thought it was only the estate you were after?"

"I want the estate and her with it. Mark my words, Bolton, I will have
both!"

"You will have the estate, no doubt; Mr. Linden has made his will in
your favor, has he not?" and Bolton looked intently in the face of his
visitor.

"Hark you, Bolton, there is a mystery I cannot fathom. My uncle made
two wills. In the earlier, he left the estate to Florence and myself,
if we married; otherwise, to me alone."

"That is satisfactory."

"Yes, but there was another, in which the estate goes to the son, if
living. That will has disappeared."

"Is it possible?" asked Bolton, in astonishment. "When was it missed?"

"On the night of the burglary."

"Then you think----"

"That the boy, Dodger, has it. Good Heavens! if he only knew that by
this will the estate goes to him!" and Waring wiped the perspiration
from his brow.

"You are sure he did not give you the will?" he demanded, eying Bolton
sharply.

"I have not seen him since the night o