M RS. GRAHAM heartily sympathized in the joy of the mother and son, who, parted by death, as each supposed, had come together so strangely.

"You look ten years younger, Mrs.Conrad," she declared. "I never saw such a transformation."

"It is joy that has done it, my dear friend. I was as one without hope or object in life. Now I have both."

"Your husband has your fortune yet."

"I care not for that. Oliver is more to me than money."

"Thank you, mother," said Oliver; "but we must be practical, too. I have learned that money is a good thing to have. Mr.Kenyon has been led to wrong us, and make us unhappy, by his greed for money. We will punish him by depriving him of it."

"I quite agree with you, Oliver," said Mr.Graham, who was present. "Your step-father should be punished in the way he will feel it the most."

"What course would you advise me to pursue, Mr.Graham?" asked Oliver.

"I am not prepared with an immediate answer. We will speak of it to-morrow."

Learning how much kindness Oliver had received from Nicholas Bundy, Mrs.Conrad invited him to bring his friend with him in the evening, and the invitation was cordially seconded by Mr.Graham.

Nicholas was overjoyed to hear of the good fortune of Oliver, but hesitated at first to accept the invitation.

"I'm a rough backwoodsman, Oliver," he said. "In my early life I was not so much a stranger to society, but now I shan't know how to behave."

"You underrate yourself, Mr.Bundy," said Oliver. "I can promise you won't feel awkward in my mother's society, and Mrs.Graham is very much like her."

Nicholas looked doubtful.

"You judge me by yourself, my boy," he answered. "Boys adapt themselves to ladies' society easy, but I'm an old crooked stick that don't lay straight with the rest of the pile."

"I don't care what you are, Mr.Bundy," said Oliver, with playful imperiousness; "my mother wants to see you, and come you must!"

Nicholas Bundy laughed.

"Well, Oliver," he said, "things seem turned round, and you have become my guardian. Well, if it must be, it must, but I'm afraid you'll be ashamed of me."

"If I am, Mr.Bundy, set me down as a conceited puppy," said Oliver warmly. "Haven't you been my kind and constant friend?"

Nicholas looked pleased at Oliver's warm-hearted persistence.

"I'll go, Oliver," he said. "Come to think of it, I should like to see your mother."

When Nicholas and Oliver entered the elegant Graham mansion, the former looked a little uneasy, but his countenance lighted up when Mrs.Conrad, her face genial with smiles, thanked him warmly for his kindness to her boy.

"I couldn't help it, ma'am," he said. "I've got nobody to care for except him, and I hope you'll let me look after him a little still."

"I shall never wish to come between you, Mr.Bundy. I am glad that he has found in you a kind and faithful friend. His step-father, as you know, has been his worst enemy and mine. I hoped he would prove a kind and faithful guardian to my boy, but I have been bitterly disappointed."

"He's a regular scamp, as far as I can learn," said Nicholas bluntly. "You haven't got a picture of him, have you? I should like to know how the villain looks."

"I have," said Oliver. "This morning, in looking over my carpet-bag, I found an inner pocket, in which was a photograph of Mr.Kenyon. I believe Roland once used the bag, and in that way probably it got in."

"Have you the picture here?" asked Mr.Bundy.

"Here it is," answered Oliver, drawing it from his pocket.

Nicholas took it, and as he examined it his face wore a look of amazement.

"Who did you say this was?" he asked.

"Mr.Kenyon."

"Your step-father?"

"Yes."

"It is very singular," he remarked, in an undertone, his face still wearing the same look of wonder.

"What is very singular, Mr.Bundy?" Oliver asked curiously.

"I'll tell you," answered Nicholas Bundy slowly. "This picture, which you say is the picture of your step-father, is the picture of Rupert Jones, my early enemy."

Both Oliver and his mother uttered exclamations of surprise.

"Can this be true, Mr.Bundy?"

"There is no doubt about it, ma'am. It is a face I can never forget. There is the same foxy look about the eyes—the same treacherous smile. I should know that face anywhere, and I would swear to it in any court in the United States."

"But the name! My step-father's name is Kenyon."

"Names are easily changed, Oliver, my boy. The man's real name is Rupert Jones. I don't care what he calls himself now. He's misused us all. He's been my worst enemy, as well as yours, ma'am, and yours, Oliver. Now, I move we both join forces and punish him."

"There's my hand, Mr.Bundy," said Oliver.

"He's your husband, ma'am," said Nicholas, "What do you say?"

"I was mad to marry him; I will never live with him again. I am out of patience with myself when I think that through my means I have brought misfortune upon my son."

"I don't look upon it just that way, ma'am," said Bundy. "But for that, I might never have met Oliver or you, and that would have been a great misfortune. He's played a desperate game, but we've got the trump cards in our hand, and we'll take his tricks."

"I fear that he may harm you," said Mrs.Conrad. "He is a bad man."

"That is true enough, but I think I shall prove a match for him. I've got a little document in my pocket which I think will check-mate him."

"What is that?"

"A note which he has forged. I picked it up at Kelso."

The next day a consultation was held, and it was decided that Oliver and his mother and Mr.Bundy should go on to New York at once, and that hostilities should be initiated against Mr.Kenyon.

During the day a note was received from the city prison, to this effect:

"Shall you go, Mr.Bundy?" asked Oliver.

"Certainly. It is worth while to strengthen our evidence as much as possible."

"May I go with you?"

"I wish you would. You are the most interested, and it is proper that you should be present."

There was no opposition made on the part of the authorities, and Oliver and Mr.Bundy were introduced into the presence of the prisoner.

Denton smiled.

"You see I'm hauled up for moral repairs," he said coolly. "Well, it's my luck."

"Did you have a pleasant return from Kelso, Mr.Denton?" asked Oliver.

"So you recognized me?"

"Yes, in spite of your red wig!"

"Someone else recognized me, too—a detective. That is why I am here. But let us proceed to business."

"Go on."

"I can give you information of importance touching this boy's step-father."

"Perhaps we know it already."

"It is hardly likely. His name is not Kenyon. I can tell you his real name."

"It is Rupert Jones," said Bundy.

"Where the deuce did you learn that?" asked Denton, astonished.

"I recognized his picture. Is that all you have to tell us?"

"No. I have been in his employ. As his agent, I dogged you."

"Prove that to us, and we will give you a hundred dollars."

"Make it a hundred and fifty."

"Done!"

Denton placed in the hands of Nicholas Bundy his letters of instruction from Mr.Kenyon.

"They will help our case," said Nicholas. "I think we shall be able to bring our common enemy to terms."