At first Ben was puzzled, but all at once it flashed upon him that the man was the one who had tried to rob his stepfather and afterward to enter the house. He could see in his face some of the fine bird shot which had entered it when he fired the old musket at him.

Now it often happens that a fixed and steady gaze will in some strange manner be felt by the person observed. At any rate, in this instance Tom Tidd at first looked uneasy, then turning returned Ben’s look. He, too, was struck by something familiar in the boy’s face, but his new clothes made recognition more difficult.

“What are you starin’ at, kid?” he growled.

“Did you address me, sir?” asked Ben.

“Yes, I did. Do you think you’ll know me next time?”

“Perhaps so,” answered Ben.

“Where do you hang out, any way?”

“On this boat at present.” “Where are you going?”

“To New York.”

“I’m blamed if you don’t look like a young rascal that peppered me with bird shot two or three nights ago.”

“How did that happen? Did the gun go off by accident?”

“No, he meant it, confound him!”

“I don’t wonder you don’t like my looks if that is the case.”

“Well, I guess you ain’t him. If you was I’d——”

Here the conversation dropped, and Tom Tidd returned to his pipe, while Ben, congratulating himself that his unpleasant neighbor’s suspicions had not been confirmed, walked away to another part of the boat.

At ten o’clock Ben settled himself as comfortably as he could for the night. It might have been the excitement that prevented his sleeping well. At any rate he woke up from a troubled nap about midnight, and finding the atmosphere rather close, decided to go on deck for a breath of fresh air.

Walking along the starboard side of the steamer in a narrow passage lined with staterooms, his attention was attracted to a shambling figure looking into one of the rooms with his head protruding through the open window.

Instantly Ben stopped in excited attention. As the man withdrew his head for an instant and showed his side face, Ben saw that it was his country acquaintance Tom Tidd, and he understood at once that his object was robbery.

While he was standing irresolute Tom thrust in his hand, and drew out the vest of the sleeping passenger, from the pocket of which he proceeded to draw out a gold watch with a chain attached.

Without thinking of the imprudence of the step, Ben ran forward, and seizing the thief by the arm, cried in a tone of authority, “Drop that!”

Tom Tidd whirled round instantly, naturally startled, as one might well be detected in such an act.

“Oh, it’s you, you young rascal!” he exclaimed in a furious tone. “I’ll give you a lesson.”

He seized Ben in a vise-like-grip, and lifting him from the deck, prepared to throw him overboard. Ben’s heart failed him, as he saw the seething waters into which he would probably be thrown. He struggled to release himself, and gained a temporary advantage, slipping eel-like from the grasp of the burglar. By a happy inspiration he snatched a whistle from his pocket and blew a loud blast following it up by loud cries of “Help! Murder!”

“You’re too late,” hissed the burglar, making another effort to throw the boy overboard.

He lifted him above the rail and held him there suspended. Ben gave himself up for lost.

It is hard to tell how many thoughts came into his mind in the few seconds in which he felt himself at the mercy of the burly ruffian. It seemed likely that his career would then and there be cut off, in which case this story would never have been written.

But help was at hand. The door of the stateroom was thrown open, and the occupant, a strong, muscular man, weighing at least two hundred pounds, entered upon the scene.

Quickly comprehending the situation, he grasped Tom Tidd in his powerful arms, tore Ben from his clutches, and then demanded sternly, “What does all this mean?”

“This man was going to throw me into the water,” gasped Ben.

“And you deserved it, too,” growled the discomfited burglar.

“What had you done?” asked the passenger, addressing himself to Ben. “He was getting into your stateroom through the window,” exclaimed Ben. “He had hold of your vest when I came up and tackled him.”

“Is this so? Where, then, is the vest?”

“He must have dropped it on the floor inside the stateroom.”

“Go in and see if it’s there.”

“Lemme go!” exclaimed Tom Tidd, trying to wriggle out of the grasp of the muscular passenger.

“Not yet, my friend! I haven’t done with you.”

“I’ll throw you into the Sound.”

“You may do it if you can. I haven’t belonged to the Manhattan Athletic Club for the last five years for nothing.”

“I’ve found the vest,” said Ben from inside the stateroom.

“Is the watch in it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good! that watch cost me five hundred dollars in Geneva.”

Tom Tidd groaned inwardly. What a chance he had lost!

“Now go and call some one. This fellow must be secured.”

“Let me go!” pleaded Tidd, becoming alarmed. “I won’t try to enter your stateroom again.” “I don’t mean that you shall have the chance.”

“Let me go!” continued the burglar fiercely, making a hard struggle to get free.

“Can’t think of it, my fine fellow. For the sake of the community I shall see that you are secured.”

Meanwhile, Ben had run into the saloon and returned with two men—one an employee of the boat. Help came none too soon.

Tom Tidd had managed to thrust his hand into his pocket, drawing out a large jackknife, which he was trying to open. Had he done so it might have fared ill with his captor.

Ben was the first to see the knife.

“Take his knife away!” he exclaimed in excitement.

The two men threw themselves upon the ruffian and managed to deprive him of his ugly weapon, throwing it into the water. Then some strong cord was obtained, and the fellow, in spite of his struggles, was tied securely.

“You are the cause of all this!” he exclaimed, glaring at Ben. “Now tell me who you are. Haven’t I met you before?”

“Yes,” answered Ben.

“Where?”

“When I last saw you I was looking out of a third story window at midnight.” “By gum, I thought so. And it was you that peppered me with bird shot.”

“Yes; but I wouldn’t have done so if I hadn’t felt obliged to.”

“And to think I’ve been foiled twice by a kid!” exclaimed Tom Tidd with an expression of disgust. “I’ll get even with you yet.”

“What does he mean?” asked Grant Griswold, the occupant of the stateroom.

Ben explained.

“Evidently the man is a confirmed rogue. How did you happen to be on deck so late?”

“It was close in the saloon and I came up to get a breath of fresh air.”

“Luckily for me. Have you a stateroom?”

“No, sir.”

“Then, if you like, occupy mine. There is an upper berth at your service.”

“Thank you sir. I will accept your invitation.”

“I won’t talk any more with you now, but in the morning I will ask you to breakfast with me, and you can tell me more about yourself. I suppose as my caller is now secured it won’t hurt to keep my window open.”

The rest of the night was uneventful. Both Ben and his new friend slept soundly, and only waked up when the steamer was passing under Brooklyn Bridge.

“Are you awake, my young friend?” asked Mr. Griswold, after he had performed his ablutions.

“Yes,” answered Ben, rubbing his eyes.

“And do you know where you are?” went on his companion, smiling.

“No, sir.”

“We are near the pier in New York and I advise you to get up and prepare for landing.”

“That won’t take long, sir, as I didn’t undress.”

Ben secured his bundle and the two left the steamer. Ben looked about curiously.

“Are you expecting any one to meet you, Ben?” asked Mr. Griswold, who had inquired the name of his young roommate.

“No, sir; I know no one in New York.”

“We will go up to the Astor House to breakfast.”

Ben had heard of the Astor House, but had no particular idea with regard to it. At the suggestion of his new friend his bundle was left in the package room of the hotel and they went up-stairs into the dining-saloon. Two gentlemen at a neighboring table recognized Mr. Griswold, and looked rather curiously at Ben.