The Broxton Club was a fashionable resort for young gentlemen who usually had more money than brains. It was located near the upper side of Union Square, and the club apartments consisted of a parlor, a dining and wine room, and a room for card-playing. In the latter apartment gambling went on at nearly all hours of the day and night.

Reaching the club Homer Bulson found several congenial companions, and presently sat down to a game of cards. Bets were made, first at a dollar, then at five, and then at ten and twenty. Bulson had no luck, and soon lost forty dollars.

"I'm on the wrong side to-night," was his dismal comment, and he went to the wine room to forget his losses in the flowing bowl.

He had just finished a glass of liquor when a servant came to him.

"A man at the door to see you, sir," said the servant. "Says he has a private message for you."

Wondering who the messenger could be, Homer Bulson hurried below and found Con Worden awaiting him.

"You want to see me?" he questioned sharply. He did not like the dilapidated appearance of the hanger-on.

"Are you the gent that just came from Sam Pepper's place?"

"What if I am?" asked Bulson cautiously.

"He says he wants to see you at once."

"At once?"

"That's it."

"He didn't say what about?"

"No."

"All right; I'll be over as soon as I can get there."

"I'll tell him that."

Homer Bulson expected Worden to make off at once, but the hanger-on did not budge.

"Well, aren't you going?" asked the young man sharply.

"Certainly, sir; soon as I git paid," said Worden coolly.

"Oh, that's it! What do you want?"

"It's worth a quarter, aint it?"

"I suppose so," answered Bulson carelessly, and passed over a silver piece.

"Thanks; I'm off now," said Con Worden, and speedily disappeared.

In a few minutes Homer Bulson followed the man, and it did not take him long to reach Sam Pepper's resort once more.

As he entered he found Pepper in the act of clearing out all the hangers-on, including Worden, who had just received the quarter promised to him.

"Well, what is it?" asked Homer Bulson.

"I've got news that I guess will surprise you," was the answer.

"What is it?"

"You want to find your cousin Gertrude."

"I do."

"What will you give me for finding her for you?"

"Oh, I don't know. What do you want?"

"Is it worth a hundred dollars?"

"What, for just finding her?"

"For finding her and putting her in your power."

"Can you put her in my power?"

"Perhaps I can."

"When?"

"Very soon,—if you'll pay the hundred."

"I will," returned Bulson eagerly. "Perhaps you've got her in your power already," he went on hastily.

"I have."

"Where?"

"Here."

Homer Bulson looked around him and then stared at Pepper in amazement.

"I don't see her."

"She is in my sitting room, under lock and key."

"Back there?"

The cafÉ keeper nodded.

"But I can't understand it, Pepper. How did you get her here, and so soon? You didn't have her when I was here before, did you?"

"Of course not. Right after you went away she came in, looking for Nelson, because the woman she lives with is very sick. I told her to wait in the sitting room, and then I locked the door and the window on her."

"What is she doing now?"

As if in reply to the young man's question there was a loud knock on the sitting-room door.

"Mr. Pepper! Mr. Pepper!" came in Gertrude's voice.

"She has knocked several times," said Pepper. "But I didn't mind that. I'm thankful she hasn't begun to kick and scream."

"I must have a talk with her. Now that she finds she is in our power, perhaps she'll come to terms."

"More than likely."

The door was unlocked, and Sam Pepper allowed Homer Bulson to enter the room.

"Watch the door, if you don't want her to get away," whispered Sam Pepper, and the young man winked one eye knowingly.

On seeing her cousin Gertrude fell back in astonishment.

"What, you?" she faltered.

"Yes, Gertrude, I've been looking for you," he answered.

"Where is Nelson?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. I don't see how you can interest yourself in that young ruffian."

"He is more of a true gentleman than you will ever be, Mr. Bulson."

"You are truly complimentary, Gertrude. But you do not know your own mind, nor what is best for you. This running away has upset your judgment."

"I did not run away—I was driven away—and all because of you."

"Then let me set matters right for you."

"Will you do that?" she asked eagerly.

"I promise I will—if you'll only marry me."

"Always the same thing!" she cried, bursting into tears. "I will not listen. Let me go."

She started for the door, but he placed himself directly in her path.

"Wait a minute. Where do you live?"

"I decline to answer that question."

"I'll wager it is in some low tenement house, among the poorest people."

"I live among poor people, it is true, but they are not low, as you understand the word."

"Did Nelson Pepper find the place for you?"

"He did."

"Always that boy! You make me angry with your foolishness. Why don't you come back? I want to share Uncle Mark's fortune with you."

"I have talked all I wish upon the subject."

"How are you to live? You never did any work in your whole life."

"I can work when it is necessary."

"At what?"

"I am giving piano lessons."

"At starvation wages, I presume," he sneered.

"I am making an honest living. Thousands can do no more. Now I demand that you let me go."

Again she moved toward the door, and again he stood in her path.

"Did you hear what I said?" she cried. "Stand aside!"

"I will stand aside—when we have come to terms," he answered, setting his teeth. "You shall not leave this house until you have promised to do as I and your uncle desire."