"Now," said Bob to the little girl, as they descended the steep and narrow staircase, "will you do as I tell you?"

"Yes," answered the child, placing her hand confidingly in his.

"Then make as little noise as possible. We don't want them to wake up. If they do they will prevent your going away."

"Will you take me back to my papa, certain sure?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I am so glad."

"Clip," said Bob, warningly, "mind you remain perfectly quiet. We must go through the room where the man and woman are sleeping. Any little noise might wake them up."

"Don't be afeared for me, Massa Bob," said Clip.

The staircase led into the main room below, so that, as Bob said, it was necessary to pass through it.

Entering the room on tip-toe, they witnessed a reassuring, but disgusting spectacle. Joe Springer was stretched out on the floor on his back, breathing heavily; while his wife, seated in a chair, rested her head on the kitchen table. She, too, seemed to be in a drunken stupor.

The little girl regarded the woman nervously, remembering the harsh treatment she had received from her.

There was one more ordeal, and one more danger to run. The outer door was locked, but the key was in the lock. There was a creaking sound as Bob turned it. But he opened the door successfully, and once more they breathed freely in the clear air of morning. As the door opened they heard a muttered sound from Joe Springer. It sounded like "more whisky!" He was probably dreaming of his potations of the previous night.

Bob hurried along his two companions till they had reached a point some half a mile distant from the place of their imprisonment. Then he thought it best to question the little girl.

Little Maud's Escape from her Abductors.

"What is your name?" he asked, gently.

"Don't you know my name?" asked the child, in surprise. "My name is Maud."

"What is your other name?"

"Pearson—my name is Maud Lilian Pearson."

"Just as I thought, Clip," said Bob, triumphantly. "This is the little girl that was stolen from her parents in St. Louis."

"Yes; my papa lives in St. Louis. Will you take me to him?"

"Yes, Maud. Only be a good little girl, and do as I tell you."

"And you won't let that ugly woman take me away?"

"No; we will hide you away from her. Did she treat you badly?"

"Yes; she shook me, and said she would whip me. She said she was my aunt; but it isn't true."

"Who brought you to her?"

Maud thereupon described the man whom we know as Brown, the abler one of the confederates who had stolen the ferry-boat.

"I wonder whether our boat is gone?" said Bob.

"Mebbe we can see from the hill," suggested Clip.

There was a small elevation near by. Bob ascended it, and looked towards the point where his boat had been tied up. There was no sign of it. It had disappeared. Though still early, Brown and Minton, fearing interference, had cut loose about four o'clock, and were, by this time, several miles on their way to the great city.

"It's gone, Clip," said Bob, sadly.

"Never mind, Massa Bob, we'll catch 'em," answered Clip, energetically.

"Yes, if there is any boat starts down the river to-day."

This, however, was something which he was not sure of. Moreover, he felt that the sooner he got away from Joe Springer and his estimable wife, the better. But where could he take refuge? Not at the hotel, for Springer would find him out and reclaim the little girl. While he was considering, in his perplexity, what course to pursue, he fell in with two boys, who appeared to be about fifteen years of age. They regarded Bob and his party with curiosity.

Bob eyed the boys closely, and decided that they could be depended upon. They seemed to be just the friends he was in search of. He introduced himself, and learned that their names were John Sheehan and Edward Bovee.

"Can you tell me, boys, when the next steamer will start for St. Louis?"

"Yes," answered John; "there is one at seven o'clock to-morrow morning."

"That is the earliest?"

"Yes," said John.

"Do you know of any private house where we can stay till that time? I am willing to pay a fair price."

"You can come to our house," said Edward Bovee. "I am sure my mother will take you in. But you won't get as good meals as at the hotel."

"I don't mind that. I shall be glad to stay at your house. Could we go there to breakfast?"

"Yes; follow me, and I will lead the way."

Edward Bovee led the way to a neat cottage, where his mother, a pleasant-looking lady, welcomed them, and readily undertook to keep them till the boat started for St. Louis. Bob, feeling the necessity of concealment, took Mrs. Bovee into his confidence, and readily secured the co-operation of the good lady, who took a motherly interest in little Maud.

Now that the children have found a safe retreat, we will return to Joe Springer and his interesting wife.

About half an hour after their young prisoners had escaped, Mrs. Springer raised her head from the table, and looked about her in a bewildered way. The bright sunshine entering at the window revealed to her that she had spent the night in a drunken stupor, even if Joe's prostrate form had not been a visible reminder. She went to her husband, and shook him roughly.

"Get up, Joe!" she said. "It's morning."

He opened his eyes, and looked around him with stupefaction.

"What's up, old woman?" he asked.

"I am, and you ought to be," she answered, sharply.

"Where's the whisky?"

"You've had enough. Now get up and hustle round, if you want some breakfast. I'll go up and dress the little girl."

Mrs. Springer went upstairs, but came down again two steps at a time, in a state of high excitement.

"Joe," said she, quickly, "the little gal's gone!"

"What?"

"The little gal's gone! Run out and see if you can't catch her. If we lose her, we lose fifty dollars!"

"Are the boys all right?"

"Yes; the door is bolted. They couldn't get out."

This was true. Bob had taken the precaution to lock the door, after leaving the room. For this reason, it was half an hour later before Joe discovered that all his prisoners had escaped. Then, as might have been expected, there was a wild scene of recrimination, ending in a fight, in which Mrs. Springer did her part, for she was by no means a weak or delicate lady, but a woman without fear, who believed in the right of self-defense. The worthy pair instituted a search throughout the village, but failed to discover any trace of the lost children. The next morning, however, Joe Springer got up unusually early, for him, and strolled to the steamboat-landing. The boat was already out in the stream, when on the deck he discovered Maud and the two boys.

"Stop the boat!" screamed Joe, in excitement.

"What's the matter?" asked the man beside him.

"Those three children. They have run away!"

"From you?"

"Yes; from my house."

"Why, man, you must be drunk. You have no children."

"I had charge of 'em, particularly the little gal! Stop the boat, I say!"

"Has that man any claim on you?" asked the captain, who chanced to be standing near Bob.

"Not the slightest," answered Bob.

"Or the little girl?"

"No; her father lives in St. Louis, and I am taking her to him."

"Stop the boat!" screamed Joe, frantically.

"He's drunk!" said Joe's neighbor. "He doesn't know what he's talking about."

This settled the matter so far as the captain was concerned. Bob paid the full passage-money for the party, and they were enrolled as regular passengers.

Towards the middle of the afternoon a surprise awaited them. They saw, not far ahead, their own boat, which was drifting down the river, with Brown at the helm.

"Do you see that, Clip?" asked Bob.

"Yes, Massa Bob."

"Quick, hide! Don't let them see us. I have no objection to their working their passage down to the city. When they get there, we will be on hand to take possession."

"Dat's a good joke! Won't they be s'prised, dough?" said Clip, showing his white teeth.

So the steamboat swept by, carrying the three children past the two conspirators, who fancied them safely housed in Joe Springer's house up the river.