ore rum in him. He said on Sunday, as how't I should
strike; but they went to work here, and I worked with 'em. When I went
home, mother, she gev me my supper, and ses she, 'Keep out o' sight,
lad, happen thy dad's powerful mad wi' thee!' So I went to bed. But
about nine he comed home, and tore up the house wi' his tantrums, and
then lathered me. He called me a rat, and a sneak, and a turn-coat, and
kicked me out o' the house, and threw my traps to me. Then afore I was
fairly dressed he at me again, and said if ever I darkened the door,
he'd murder me! I strayed round, afeared of everybody, and crawled up
here. 'Pears like every bone in my body is broke, and my eye, he do hurt
so!"

With that Barton Kane broke out sobbing again, and clung to Jack Darcy's
knees.

"My poor lad!" the tone was infinitely tender. "Can you walk a little
way, to Kit Connelly's? You can be nursed up there, and go to bed
peaceably. Come, Barton, my boy, you are the hero of Hope Mills. When
this is over, we shall have to give you a medal."

He put his strong arm around the shivering body, and led him back to a
kindly shelter.

"Hay, Mrs. Connelly, and all of you: here's a lad that has been
half-killed for standing by his colors to-day. Look here, Armstrong,
would you mind going for Dr. Maverick? this poor chap needs some
patching-up. And, Kit, give me some water and a napkin: we'll get his
face a little cool and clean."

"Let me do it, Mr. Darcy. Sure, I've boys of my own, and am used to it.
Oh, the poor, poor lad!"

Barton told his story over again. He was weak and hysterical now, and
they made him a shake-down on the floor until the doctor came.

"Now I'll start on my inspection-tour again," said Darcy, turning away.
"We are all likely to make a night of it."

He thought he would go around before he went in to see the watchmen:
they had placed a force on guard quietly. He had just turned the second
corner, when he saw a man jump from the high fence, and lie for an
instant as if stunned. He hastened on, but the man sprang up and ran
down the dark side of the street. His first impulse was to follow; then
it struck him as strange that the dog gave no alarm. He had a gate-key
in his pocket, and unlocked it at once.

"Bruno!" he called, "Bruno, good fellow, come here."

There was not a sound. The ominous silence thrilled Jack.

"Bruno!"

Hark! a curious crackling or sweep of wind, and smoky smell. He ran
round to the rear. Close up a