a pause.

"Where, Bert?"

"I don't remember. Is it possible that I can remember so far back?"

"It may be an accidental resemblance."

"No, the face is like in every respect. Can't you explain it to me,
mother?"

"Think a little, Bert. Perhaps you will recall where you saw a face like
this."

"I have it now," said Bert, his face brightening up. "It is like Mr.
Robinson--the friend of father, who called here a few weeks since."

"Bert," said his mother slowly, "Mr. Robinson was not your father's
friend. It was your father himself."

Bert looked the picture of astonishment.

"Why did you not tell me, mother?"

"How could I? You did not even know that he was alive. Ever since then I
have been seeking an opportunity to tell you the truth."

"I am glad to know. What did father have to say?"

"He thinks he has found out--at any rate he has strong suspicions--who
was the real thief for whom he suffered."

"Who is it, mother? Is it any one I ever knew?"

"Yes, Bert."

"Tell me quick."

"Then you must promise to keep it secret till we are in a condition to
prove the truth of our suspicions. It was Albert Marlowe."

"The squire?"

"Yes."

"That must explain his being able to go into business for himself."

"Yes. Your father is on the track of a man who was his accomplice, or
rather his tool, in the matter--the young man named Harding, on whose
information your father was arrested. Of course he is placed under a
disadvantage in making these inquiries, being under the ban of the law."

"Mother," said Bert solemnly, "I am going to solve the mystery, if
possible, make my father's evidence clear, and expose the real criminal.
I am only a boy, and I don't know how I shall accomplish it, but I won't
rest till I have done it."

"May Heaven grant you success, my dear boy!" responded Mrs. Barton
fervently.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE OFFICE OF THE MAGNET MINE.

Bert took the morning train to New York, and arrived about half-past
seven o'clock. He met with no adventures on the way, and as soon as he
reached the Grand Central Depot took a Fourth Avenue car down, as
instructed by Uncle Jacob. In a large building of many stories on Nassau
Street, on the sixth floor, was an office on the door of which Bert read

MAGNET MINING CO.

This, as he understood, was the office where Jacob Marlowe was employed.

Bert was considering whether he ought to knock or not, when a
brisk-looking gentleman stepped up, and,