ung actor
who was taken sick."

"You act as if you had been trained to it. But how came you to be at
Harrisburg? That is not your home?"

"No. As you were my father's friend, I will tell you what brought me out
there."

Bert briefly related the story that is already known to the reader.
Hiram French listened with great attention.

"I remember Ralph Harding," he said. "He was not popular among his
shopmates, especially after his agency in throwing suspicion upon your
father."

"Was it generally thought that my father was guilty?" asked Bert.

"No; while circumstances were strong against him, no one could believe
that a man whose reputation for integrity was as high as your father's
would be guilty of stealing. But the good will of his associates could
not help him."

"Did you know Mr. Marlowe?"

"Albert Marlowe? Yes."

"Was he well liked?"

"Not by me. He was far from being as highly respected as your father."

"Yet he has prospered. He is the owner of a factory in Lakeville, and is
considered worth thirty thousand dollars."

"I am surprised to hear it. When I knew him he was always in debt."

"If he really took the bonds charged upon my father, that would account
for his start in business."

"Exactly so. Now that I think of it, two or three days after the theft,
I saw him and Ralph Harding walking together, apparently engaged in
earnest conversation. They evidently had a good understanding with each
other. I believe you are on the right track, and I heartily hope you
will succeed in making your father's innocence evident to the world.
John Barton was my favorite friend, and I hope some day to see him in
Chicago."

"Are you in business here, Mr. French?"

"Yes; I am in the old line. Like Albert Marlowe, I am the owner of a
large shoe factory, and I am worth, I should say, considerably more
money."

Hiram French occupied a handsome house on Indiana Avenue, furnished with
taste, and was, as his style of living showed, in easy circumstances. He
introduced Bert to his wife and daughter, who seemed at once drawn to
the young actor. When he left the house the next morning after breakfast
he was urgently invited to call again during his stay, and partially
promised to do so. But he was in haste to reach Peoria, for there it was
he hoped to find a witness that would vindicate his father's name and
fame.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

A LATE ARRIVAL AT MRS. BARTON'S COTTAGE.

One evening, about eight o'clo