A little reflection led Gerald to feel more comfortable. Without knowing exactly why he had been imprisoned, he concluded that it might be for purposes of plunder. Now he was not in the habit of carrying much money about with him, and his purse contained but fifteen dollars. Having no bills to pay, he allowed his salary to accumulate in the hands of his employer, and this accounted for his being so poorly provided.

“They are welcome to the fifteen dollars if they will let me out of this cage,” he soliloquized. “Of course it’s an imposition, but it won’t ruin me. I wish that young rascal would come back.”

But the young rascal was at that very moment talking in the street below with a man whose face looks familiar. In fact, it was Mr. Samuel Standish.

“I’ve got him, Uncle Sam,” said the boy, when his respected relation turned the corner.

“You have really?” exclaimed Standish, his face lighting up with satisfaction.

“Wish ter die if I ain’t. Now give me that dollar.”

“I didn’t promise you a dollar, Tip. It was only fifty cents.”

“It’s worth a dollar,” said the boy, screwing up his face. “I had awful hard work getting him here. Told him my mudder would beat me if he didn’t come along and get me off.”

“You’re a smart one, Tip—take after your uncle.”

“Den it’s worth a dollar.”

“Here, I’ll give you seventy-five cents; that is, I’ll see first if he’s there,” added Standish cautiously.

“You don’t think I’d lie, do you, Uncle Sam?” said Tip with an injured look.

“It wouldn’t be the first time, I’m afraid.”

“I take after my uncle,” said Tip, twisting his elf-like features into a grin.

“You’ve got me there, Tip. You are a smart one. Where is he?”

“Up-stairs, in de room.”

“Is he locked in?”

“Well, I reckon.”

“Come up with me, Tip, and, if I find it’s true, I’ll give you the dollar.”

“Come along, den.”

Tip went up the rickety staircase, two steps at a time, and Samuel Standish followed in a more leisurely way.

Arrived at the landing, Standish signaled to Tip to knock on the door.

Tip did so.

“Is you dere?” he asked.

“Yes; let me out!” cried Gerald eagerly.

“What’ll you give me?”

Gerald was tempted to answer “a licking,” but he reflected that it would not be prudent. He must temporize.

“You’ve played a trick on me, and you don’t deserve anything. But I’ll give you another quarter, and won’t say anything about it.”

“So he gave you a quarter, did he, Tip?” inquired Standish.

“No; he’s only gassin’,” said Tip. “Now, do you believe he’s dere?”

“Yes; it’s all right.”

“Where’s de money?”

Samuel Standish drew seventy-five cents from his pocket—a fifty-cent piece and a quarter—and handed them to his promising nephew.

“I want a dollar,” said Tip doggedly.

“You’ve got it.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“The boy inside gave you twenty-five cents.”

“Dat’s what I call mean.”

“Go away, you young rogue! You’ve got more money now than you will make good use of. There’s many a time even now when I haven’t got as much.”

“I say, uncle,” asked the boy, excited by curiosity, “what are you goin’ to do wid him?”

“That’s my affair. I have some business with him—important business.”

“Let me go in wid you!”

“If you don’t clear out I’ll kick you downstairs.”

A glance at his uncle’s face satisfied Tip that he meant what he said, and making a virtue of necessity, he descended the stairs, two steps at a time.

Gerald heard him and became alarmed.

“Come back here and let me out!” he called. “I’ll pay you well.”

If Tip had heard this he would have been tempted to retrace his steps, for if there was anything the young rascal was fond of it was money. But he was already out of hearing.

Gerald, however, heard a key inserted in the lock, and his hopes rose again. He had not heard the voice of Standish, and was not aware of his presence, but stood ready to make a rush out of the room when the door opened. But he reckoned without his host. The door opened, indeed, but only sufficiently to admit the figure of Samuel Standish.

“Mr. Standish!” exclaimed Gerald in astonishment.

“Yes, my dear young friend. I’ve come to make you a call.”