aneously.

"That information belongs to me," said Jones, quietly. "A detective
doesn't work without pay."

The two Campbells now began to see the point. This man had information
to sell, and would not give it up without what he considered suitable
compensation. They determined to drive the best possible bargain with
him. He was poor, and probably could be bought over for a small sum.

"Your information is worth something, Jones," said the merchant,
guardedly. "I will go so far as to give you twenty-five dollars cash for
it."

"That won't do," said Jones, shaking his head.

"Your information may be worth nothing," said Orton. "You may have seen
her, but that doesn't show where she is now."

"I know where she is now," said Jones.

"Is she in California?"

"I don't mind telling you as much as that, Mr. Orton."

"Then we can find her without your assistance."

"I don't think you can. At any rate, it will take time, especially as,
if you don't make a bargain with me, I shall write her that you are on
her track."

Father and son looked at each other.

It was evident that Jones was no fool, and they would be obliged to
submit to his terms or give up the search, which was not to be thought
of.

"What do you propose, Jones?" asked Mr. Campbell, a little less
haughtily.

"That you pay my expenses back to California and one thousand dollars,"
said Jones, promptly. "If you or Mr. Orton will go with me, I will show
you where she lives, and then you can take your own course."

This was finally agreed to, and Orton Campbell and the ex-porter sailed
by the next steamer for San Francisco, where Florence Douglas, still
boarding with Mrs. Armstrong, was waiting impatiently for news of
Richard Dewey.

CHAPTER XXII.

A MORNING CALL.

Florence Douglas had now been an inmate of Mrs. Armstrong's household
for some months. She avoided making acquaintances, and therefore was
often lonely. But she was buoyed up by the thought that Richard Dewey
was somewhere in the State, and that the two messengers whom she had
sent out would eventually find him. She felt great confidence in Ben,
and also in Bradley, who had impressed her as an honest, straightforward
man, though illiterate and not at all times superior to temptation.

Her hope had been sustained by a letter received from Ben at the time he
and Bradley were on the point of starting for the Sierras, where they
had information that Dewey was engaged in mining. The