THE CABLEGRAM FROM CHICAGO.

As soon as the team came to a halt Robert leaped to the ground and held their heads.

"Now you can get out, Mrs. Vernon," he said.

"Thank God we are safe!" murmured the lady.

She was so weak she could scarcely stand, and once having left the carriage she sank down on a flat rock, her breast heaving with emotion.

Robert tied the team fast to a nearby tree, and then came to her side.

"You are not hurt, are you?" he asked anxiously.

"I--I believe not," she faltered. "But, oh, Robert, we had a very narrow escape!"

"That is so, Mrs. Vernon."

"Had the carriage gone over the cliff nothing could have saved us from death!"

"Yes, it would have been a nasty fall."

"And that man who scared the team----" She paused. "Do you imagine----" She could go no further.

"Let us talk about that later on, Mrs. Vernon," he put in hastily. "You had better rest here while I see how much the carriage is damaged."

Our hero made the examination, and speedily found that the wheel was too badly shattered to permit the turnout being used again until it was repaired.

"I'll have to get another carriage," he said. "What will you do, remain here until I get back?"

"No! no!" she cried. "I--I--that man--he may come again----" She gazed at him with a world of meaning in her eyes.

"You are right," answered Robert. "There is a cottage some distance down the road. Can you walk that far with me?"

Mrs. Vernon said she would try, and they started out. As they approached the cottage they met the owner coming away in his wagon.

Matters were quickly explained to the Englishman, and he readily agreed to drive them both back to the village.

"I hav'n't no quick horses for to run away with ye!" he grinned. "But I can git ye there in time an' safe, too."

They seated themselves on a back seat of the farm wagon, and started. The pace was a slow one, and it was fully an hour before they reached the village and the turnout came to a halt before Mrs. Cabe's door.

"Let the livery stable people attend to the wreck," said Mrs. Vernon, "and tell them to send the bill to me."

"And what of the man who scared us?" asked Robert. "Shall I put the constable on his track?"

Mrs. Vernon's face became a study.

"Robert, what do you think of this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have you any idea who it was?"

"Frankly, I have, Mrs. Vernon."

"You imagine it was Frederic?"

"I do."

"But why should he want to--to----" She could get no further, but burst into tears.

"Don't you remember he wanted to know about your will? He has probably found out that you have not yet altered it, and----"

"Well?"

"Well, he wanted to get you out of the way before any change was made. I am sorry to speak so plainly, but I think your nephew is a thorough villain."

"But we may be mistaken. The man may have been an ordinary highwayman."

Robert shook his head. "I don't believe there are highwaymen in this part of England."

Satisfied that the lady would be safe for the time being, Robert hurried off to the livery stable and explained matters to the proprietor.

"The horses got frightened on the road," he said, "and in saving them from going over the cliff I had to turn them into a thicket. A wheel is broken and one horse has his legs scratched."

"And who is going to foot the bill?" growled the livery stable keeper, imagining he scented trouble.

"Mrs. Vernon will pay any fair bill you may present. But she will pay no fancy price for the damage done."

"Oh, all right, I won't charge her any more than is necessary," said the man, much relieved.

He wished to know how the team had become frightened, but Robert evaded the question, for Mrs. Vernon had not given him permission to speak of the matter. Evidently the lady wished to think over it before deciding what to do.

When the young secretary returned to the boarding house he found Mrs. Vernon lying down, having taken a quieting draught. He attended to the writing of several letters, and was just finishing up when a messenger appeared from the telegraph office.

"The cablegram," said Robert, looking at the envelope.

"Read it, Robert," said the lady, and opening the communication he did as requested. The cablegram was from Mr. Farley. It read as follows:

"Check 865, Frederic Vernon. Six hundred dollars."

"Check number 865," murmured Mrs. Vernon. "Robert, what is the last stub number in my book?"

"Number 838."

"Then check number 865 is a forgery!"

The young secretary bowed.

"It was drawn to the order of Frederic Vernon, and probably cashed by him," went on the lady, her breath coming short and fast.

"Mrs. Vernon, we are only reaching a conclusion we guessed at long ago," said the youth soothingly.

"I know, I know, Robert! Yet I had hoped there might be some mistake!"

"Your nephew is unworthy of the interest you take in him."

"That is where he got his money to come here."

"He was a fool to commit the forgery. He must have known that it would be discovered sooner or later," said Robert bluntly. He felt that the sooner Mrs. Vernon realized the utter rascality of her nephew the better it would be for the lady.

"But if I had been killed--if both of us had been killed----" she began.

"Then the forgery would never have been discovered, for your nephew would have taken charge of everything, including your private papers and your check-books."

"It is terrible! terrible!" The lady buried her face in a sofa pillow and began to weep. "Robert, what would you advise me to do?" she asked, after a while.

"Do you want my candid opinion?" he questioned.

"I do."

"I would have a straight talk with your nephew, and then send him about his business, and tell him if he ever came near me again I would have him arrested."

"I cannot be so harsh with one of my own flesh and blood."

"Well, then, I tell you what you might do. You might give him, say, a thousand dollars, with the understanding that he leave the country, and that he does not go back to the United States."

"But where would he go?"

"There are lots of places to go to--South Africa, South America, or Australia. With a thousand dollars and his passage money he might set himself up in some sort of business and get rich."

Mrs. Vernon's face brightened.

"If he would only do that I might be so glad! If he really made a man of himself I would not cut him out of my will."

"I would not allow him to be around where I was. He is too dangerous a young man. He may try to poison you next."

Mrs. Vernon shivered.

"Yes, and he may try poisoning you, too, Robert," she said. "I must be very careful. It would not be right for me to let you run any more risk. Perhaps you would prefer to leave my services."

"Mrs. Vernon, I will never leave you--at least, so long as you wish me to stay," he cried impulsively.

"You are a true friend, Robert, and I should not like to part with you. I will have a talk with Frederic as soon as he shows himself."

"I would like to be present at the interview, Mrs. Vernon."

"Yes?"

"I want to make certain that he tries no violence. After this I am going to arm myself with a pistol," added Robert.

"You shall be present, Robert. But perhaps Frederic will not come again--if he imagines that we suspect him."

"He will hang around as long as he dares. He can get hold of no money excepting what he wrings from you, and he knows it."

At that moment a servant knocked on the door.

"What is wanted?" asked our hero, who went to answer the summons.

"Mr. Parsons come to see you and Mrs. Vernon," answered the girl.

"Mr. Parsons?" repeated the young secretary. "Who is he?"

"A farmer, please sir, as lives up back of the cliff. He says he saw you driving, and he has something to tell you."

"He must know something of importance," put in Mrs. Vernon eagerly. "Show him up, Lucy."

In a moment more Farmer Parsons, a short, ruddy-faced Englishman, entered the apartment hat in hand. Robert gave him a chair, and then closed the door tightly, that no outsiders might hear what the newcomer had to tell.