O NE day Nicholas Bundy entered the apartment occupied jointly by himself and Oliver, his face wearing an expression of satisfaction.

Oliver looked up from the book he was engaged in reading.

"I've found a clue, Oliver," he exclaimed.

"A clue to what, Mr.Bundy?"

"To Rupert Jones. I have ascertained that when he left Chicago he settled down at the town of Kelso, about seventy-five miles from Chicago, in Indiana."

"What do you propose to do?"

"To go there at once. Pack up your carpet-bag, and we will take the afternoon train."

"All right, Mr.Bundy."

Oliver was by no means averse to a journey. He had a youthful love of adventure that delighted in new scenes and new experiences.

At two o'clock they were at the depot, and bought tickets for Kelso. They did not observe that they were watched narrowly by a red-headed man, whose eyes were concealed by a pair of green glasses. Neither did they notice that he too purchased a ticket for Kelso.

This man was Denton, who had so skilfully disguised himself with a red wig and the glasses that Oliver, though his eyes casually fell upon him, never dreamed who he was.

Denton bought a paper and seated himself just behind Oliver and his guardian, so that he might, under cover of the paper, listen to their conversation.

"What business can they have at Kelso?" he soliloquized. Then partially answering his own question, "Rupert Jones once lived there, and their visit must have some connection with him. There's something behind all this that I don't understand myself. Perhaps I shall find out. Jones was always crafty, and, as far as he could, kept his own counsel."

Denton did not glean much information from the conversation between Oliver and Bundy. The latter, though he had no suspicion of being watched, did not care to converse on private matters in a public place. He was a man of prudence and kept his tongue under control.

I have said that the three passengers bought tickets to Kelso. Kelso, however, was not on the road, and a stage for that place connected with the station at Conway. Through tickets, however, had been purchased, including stage tickets.

It was about half-past five when the cars halted at Conway. There was a small depot, and a covered wagon stood beside the platform.

Oliver, Bundy, and Denton alighted.

"Any passengers for Kelso?" asked the driver of the wagon.

"Here are two," said Oliver, pointing to Bundy.

"Anyone else?"

Denton came forward, and in a low voice intimated that he was going to Kelso.

These three proved to be the only passengers.

Now, for the first time, Oliver and his guardian looked with some curiosity at their fellow-traveller.

"He's a queer-looking customer," thought Oliver.

Bundy thought, "Perhaps he lives at Kelso, and can tell us something about it. I may obtain the information I want on the way there. I'll speak to him."

"It's a pity we couldn't go all the way by cars," he said.

"Yes," said Denton briefly.

"Do you know if our ride is a long one?"

"Six miles," answered Denton, who had enquired.

"May I ask if you live in Kelso?"

"No, sir," answered Denton.

"Perhaps you can tell me if there is a hotel there?"

"I don't know."

By this time the stranger's evident disinclination to talk had attracted Oliver's attention. He looked inquisitively at the man with green glasses.

"There's something about that man's voice that sounds familiar," he said to himself. "Where can I have seen him before?"

Still, the red wig and the glasses put him off the scent.

Denton grew uneasy under the boy's fixed gaze.

"Does he suspect me!" he thought. "It wouldn't do for me to speak again."

When Bundy asked another question, he said:

"I hope you'll excuse me, sir, but I have a severe headache, and find it difficult to converse."

"Oh, certainly," apologized Bundy.

Denton leaned his head against the back of the carriage in support of his assertion.

The road was a bad one, jolting the vehicle without mercy. To Oliver it was fun, but Denton evidently did not relish it. At last one jolt came, nearly overturning the conveyance. It dislodged the green spectacles from Denton's nose, and for a moment his eyes were exposed. He replaced them hurriedly, but not in time. Oliver's sharp eyes detected him.

"It's Denton!" he exclaimed internally, but he controlled his surprise so far as not to say a word.

"He is on our track," thought our hero. "What can be his purpose?"