iss Minford appealed to
her for protection, and that the shopwoman promised it. This was
followed by the retiring of the young lady through a door in the rear of
the shop, and the locking of the door by her female friend, who put the
key in her pocket.

Young Van Quintem came in, and was surprised not to see Patty. The
shopwoman explained, with a gesture, that she had gone up stairs,
whereon he consulted his watch, and then sat down in an armchair in
front of the counter, as if with the determination of waiting for her.

Bog judged, from all the circumstances, that Miss Minford would not
again show herself for some time; that young Van Quintem would wait, in
the hope of seeing her; and that the shopwoman could be depended on as
her friend to the last. He therefore concluded that he might safely
spend time to go to the ferry house, and procure the company of old Van
Quintem and Mrs. Crull, who had probably reached the rendezvous.
Watching for an opportunity when the young man's back was turned, Bog
lightly vaulted from his hiding place, and noiselessly ran down
the street.

CHAPTER VII.

FOUND AND LOST.

When he arrived at the ferry house, the boat was coming in, with his
venerable accomplices on board. Upon receiving her cue from the
faithful Bill Fish, Mrs. Crull entered her carriage (which had been in
readiness for her since Bog started out on his search), and was driven
to Mr. Van Quintem's. The old gentleman, who was sitting in his study,
with his light overcoat and hat on, prepared for any journey, took the
spare seat in the carriage, and, in less than twenty-five minutes, by
fast driving and the timely cooperation of the ferry boat, they were at
the appointed spot.

"Have you found her, you dear Bog?" asked Mrs. Crull, breathless.

Bog answered "Yes," and that Mrs. Crull should see her in five minutes.
That lady then assisted him into the carriage, and kissed him on the
forehead in a motherly way, which would have astonished the sedate
family coachman, if he had not been entirely used to Mrs. Crull's
eccentricities.

"My good boy," said old Van Quintem, in a trembling voice, "are you sure
we are not too late--quite sure?"

"Sure!" said Bog.

"Thank God! thank God!" murmured the old gentleman. Then he looked with
a strange interest upon the honest and intelligent face of the lad. He
was contrasting the history of the poor boy, which he had learned from
Mrs. Crull, with that of his abandoned son.