Bernard was in the stateroom one day during the absence of Professor Puffer, when he noticed on the floor a fragment of paper, looking like a portion of a letter with writing upon it. He picked it up and mechanically read the words which it contained.

The paper had been torn irregularly across, so that it contained no complete sentence. The words it did contain arrested his attention. This is a transcript of them:

Bernard could not doubt that the reference was to him, and that the letter of which this was a fragment had been written by his guardian, as a document of instruction to Professor Puffer. It was clear that the professor was an agent of Mr. McCracken, and that the latter was anxious to get him out of the way.

But how? How much danger was involved in this unfriendly disposition of his guardian? Again, why did he want to get rid of him? These were questions which Bernard found himself unable to answer.

It was clear, however, that his engagement as private secretary was only a subterfuge in order to get him under the charge of Puffer, who was evidently no professor at all. It seemed an elaborate and clumsy device on the part of Mr. McCracken, but Bernard must take things as he found them, and form his own plans accordingly.

He wished he could have seen the whole letter, as the additional information it contained might help him to a decision. One thing, however, seemed evident: that it would be wise to part company with Professor Puffer as soon as practicable after he reached Europe. On the ship it was policy for him to continue the companionship, and leave the professor ignorant of the discovery he had made.

Bernard considered whether he had better communicate the contents of the scrap of paper to any one on board. On the whole, it seemed wise, in case anything should happen. There was not one of the passengers whom he felt like taking into his confidence.

Dr. Felix Hampton had no thought except for his bilious tonic, and Bernard doubted if he was a man of discretion. Nelson Sturgis was probably reliable, and seemed friendly, but, upon the whole, Bernard preferred to intrust the secret to Jack Staples. He was an humble friend, but a man to be trusted. He therefore took the earliest opportunity of speaking to Jack.

“I’ve got something to show you, Jack,” he said, when he found the sailor alone.

“All right, lad. What is it?”

“This scrap of paper.”

“Do you want me to give you my opinion of your handwriting?”

“It isn’t my handwriting.”

“Whose then?”

“To the best of my knowledge, it is the handwriting of my guardian, Cornelius McCracken.”

Jack studied the paper, and then asked quietly: “Where did you find this, lad?”

“In my stateroom. It was dropped, no doubt, by Professor Puffer.”

“So I surmised. You think it was written to him by your guardian?”

“Yes; I think there can be no doubt of that. Now, what do you think it means, Jack?”

“It means mischief,” said Jack sententiously. “It was written by one rascal to another. Of course, by ‘the boy’ he means you.”

“Yes.”

“And he wants to get rid of you?”

Bernard nodded.

“If we had the whole letter we could see into this thing better. How did he expect that professor fellow to get rid of you?”.

“That’s the question I’ve been asking myself, but I can’t answer it.”.

“What do you think of doing, lad?”

“I shall leave the professor as soon as I get a chance.”

“Yes, that’s sensible.”

“But I can’t leave him while we are on shipboard. I must wait till we get to the other side.”

“I suppose he wouldn’t try to do you any harm on board the Vesta,” said the sailor thoughtfully.

“I don’t think so.”

“Still, it’s best to watch.”

“I was going to ask you to do that, Jack.”

“So I will, lad, as well as I can, but you know I’m just a sailor, and my duties on this here vessel don’t give me much of a chance.”

“That’s true, Jack.”

“Do you think that he’ll suspect that you’ve got the paper?”

“I can’t tell yet. It seems to have been torn off, perhaps, for a lighter. He may not miss it.”

“If he had sense he’d guard such a letter as that carefully.”

“I would, if it were mine, but some men are careless, and I think he is one of that kind.”

“You mean to leave him when you get to the other side?”

“Yes, Jack.”

“Have you any money?”

“Only a few dollars.”

“If I was only at home, lad, I’d see that you had money. But all my money—over a hundred dollars,” added Jack, with pride—“is in a savings bank in York. I don’t carry any money with me.”

“Thank you, all the same, Jack; I guess I’ll get along somehow.”

“It’s a hard thing to be three thousand miles away from home without brass. Still, there’s one thing in your favor, lad.”

“What is that?”

“You’re sure to make friends. Why, I was your friend as soon as I clapped eyes on you.”

“Thank you, Jack; but all may not be as friendly as you.”

“You’ll get along, lad; take my word for that.”

“Your words encourage me, Jack. Any way, I’d rather trust a perfect stranger than Professor Puffer.”

“I surmise you’re right there, lad.”

Bernard was curious to find out whether the professor had discovered the loss of the telltale scrap of paper. He therefore watched him carefully, thinking that he might learn this by his manner. But Professor Puffer didn’t appear to suspect anything, and Bernard took care not to betray by his own manner that he had made any discovery.

Days passed—a period more than long enough to reach their destined port had the Vesta been a steamer, but being only a sailing vessel, contrary winds kept her back, and when twenty days had passed they were still out at sea. Both Jack and Bernard kept the professor under careful watch, but neither one detected anything of a suspicious character.

This Bernard remarked to Jack one day.

“You’re right, lad; the time hasn’t come yet. The mischief he’s up to isn’t on board ship. He will wait till he has you on shore.”

“If he does that, it’ll be too late, for as soon as we reach port, or as soon after as I can, I mean to leave him.”

“That’ll be the best way. Didn’t you tell me he was going to pay you a salary?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Twenty-five dollars a month.”

“More than half the month has passed. Why don’t you strike him for a part of your salary?”

“He would think I had no use for money on board.”

“All the same, lad, ask him. It won’t do no harm, and if you get anything, it will help you after you have left him. You can’t get along in England without money, or, for that matter, anywhere else.”

“I can think of one place, Jack.”

“Where’s that?”

“Where Robinson Crusoe was wrecked on a desolate island money was of no use to him, though I believe some was saved from the wreck.”

“You’re right there, lad; but as soon as he got off it would help him.”

“Well, Jack, I’ll take your advice, and let you know what he says.”

Accordingly, the next day, when Bernard found himself alone with Professor Puffer, he said: “I have been with you about twenty days, professor.”

“Is it as long as that? What of it?”

“I thought you might be willing to advance me half a month’s salary?”

“What do you want of money? There are no shops on the Vesta.”

“That’s true, but I should feel a bit more comfortable with a little money in my pocket.”

“Do you want to play for money?”

“No, sir.”

“You can’t use any money till you get to Liverpool.”

“I know it, sir, but——”

“When you get there I will give you some; till then you have no occasion for any. Besides, you have done no work.”

“I have been ready for work if you had any for me.”

“That’s all right. You shall have a chance to work in due time. We couldn’t do any work on the ship.”

Bernard had to be content with this. He reflected that if the professor carried out his promise, and gave him half a month’s salary on reaching Liverpool, that would be as soon as he would have any use for it.

As the voyage drew nearer and nearer the end, Bernard grew excited. A new life lay before him. What would be the result of his efforts to make his own living, after he had left the professor?