On the night following Nelson's leave-taking from Sam Pepper's establishment the keeper of the resort stood behind his bar, doing business as usual. The place now glistened with glasses and mirrors, but its so-called beauty was lost to view in the tobacco smoke which filled every nook and corner.

The lunch tables had given place to little round affairs where the patrons might drink and play cards, and several of the tables were filled by a noisy crowd.

Sam Pepper had just gotten rid of two tramps who wished drinks without paying for them, when he was surprised to see the door open slowly, and Homer Bulson showed himself.

"Ah! how do you do, Mr. Bulson?" he said cheerily.

"Please don't talk so loud," replied the young man, as he came in and walked to the rear end of the polished bar.

"All right, if you want it that way. Have a drink?"

"Some whisky!" was the careless answer.

"How are you making out with the girl?"

"Haven't you heard? She has left the house. My uncle cast her out."

Sam Pepper gave a long, low whistle.

"Things seems to be coming all your way," he remarked.

"I don't know about that. Don't you know that Gertrude Horton and Nelson the Newsboy are friends?"

"I've heard they knew each other."

"They are friends."

"What do you know of it?"

"I met her on Broadway one day, and he came up and wouldn't give me a chance to talk to her. Do you know where she is now?"

"No."

"Nelson must know. Question him when he comes in, will you?"

"I will—when he comes. He doesn't live with me any longer, you must remember."

"He doesn't? When did he leave?"

"Yesterday. He and a man have bought out a news stand, and he's going to live near by."

"You mustn't lose track of him—just yet."

"Trust me for that, Mr. Bulson."

"If you hear anything of Gertrude, let me know at once. If you can help me, I'll pay you well."

"I'm your man and I'll remember," answered Sam Pepper, and thereupon Homer Bulson finished his liquor, threw down a quarter dollar, and started to leave.

"Where can I find you, if you're not at home?" called Pepper after him.

"Generally at the Broxton Club," answered Bulson. "You know where that is, near Union Square." And as Pepper nodded, he opened the door and walked away.

After this, business continued brisk for half an hour, when Sam Pepper found it necessary to go to a back room for some bottles.

Hardly had he left the saloon when the door was opened, and much to the astonishment of the men at the round tables a young lady, plainly dressed, stepped in. It was Gertrude.

"I say, that's a fine girl," remarked one of the men, a rounder named Worden. "She's a new one around here, aint she?"

"Reckon she is," returned another.

"How do you do, miss?" went on the first man, getting up and tipping his hat.

"Excuse me, sir," said the girl. "Is Mr. Pepper in?"

"Yes, here he comes now," answered Con Worden, and fell back to the table again, followed by his companion.

"You are Mr. Sam Pepper?" said Gertrude timidly. The general appearance of the place frightened her.

"That's my name, miss. But you've got the advantage of me."

"I am Gertrude Horton."

Sam Pepper stared at her in the greatest astonishment.

"Well, I'm blowed," he muttered to himself. "This beats the Dutch!"

"I believe you are Nelson's foster father," continued Gertrude.

The cafÉ keeper nodded.

"Is he here?"

"Well—er—he aint here yet," answered Pepper, hardly knowing what to say. "But if you'll sit down he may come soon."

"I—I guess I had better remain outside," said Gertrude, looking around with much disgust. "You are quite sure he'll come soon? I wish to see him about Mrs. Kennedy. She has been taken dangerously ill, and I do not know what to do. Could you send him over to her place when he comes?"

"Better wait for him, Miss Horton. Come, I'll show you into our sitting room. It's not a grand place, but it's clean and quiet. Come."

He pointed to one of the back rooms, now fixed up as a sitting room. She hesitated, but before she could resist he caught her by the arm.

"Nobody shall disturb you here," he half whispered. And before she knew it she was in the sitting room. The gas was turned down, but he turned it up. Then he went out, closing the door after him. "Nelson must come in soon," he said.

Gertrude sank down on a chair. Her mind was concerned entirely over the serious sickness which had suddenly overtaken good Mrs. Kennedy, and consequently she thought little of herself. But when she heard some shutters to the window of the sitting room slam from the outside she leaped to her feet.

"What can that mean?" she cried, and ran to the window. Trying the shutters, she found them fastened from the outside. At once she crossed over to the door, to find it locked.

"He has made me a prisoner!" she moaned. Then she knocked loudly on the door, but nobody came to answer her summons.

In the meantime Sam Pepper, having locked the door and fastened the window shutters, called Con Worden to him.

"Worden, do you want to earn a quarter?" he asked.

"Well, I should smile," answered the hanger-on eagerly.

"You saw that gentleman who was here a while ago—him with the silk hat and gold-headed cane."

"Of course I did."

"Go over to the Broxton Club, near Union Square, and see if he is there. Call for Mr. Bulson. If you find him, tell him to come at once."

"All right," said Con Worden, and hurried off.