About a fortnight from the time of their departure the two travelers reached a town in Southern Indiana, which we will call Madison. They had traveled leisurely, stopping at several places on the way. Cromwell had not ventured upon a second attempt upon the life of Robert Raymond. The first failure had left on his mind an impression of fear, and he resolved that he would not again attempt open violence. If anything was to be done, it should be by more subtle and hidden ways.

As for Robert, his first feeling of suspicion was entirely dissipated. He accepted Cromwell's explanation in good faith, and thought little more about the matter, but gave up his time and thoughts to the new scenes into which each successive day brought him. He had not got to like Cromwell, nor was there any chance that he would, but the two did not interfere much with each other, but kept by themselves, so far as it could be done under the circumstances.

On arriving in Madison, a town of which Cromwell had formerly known something, they went to the Madison House, as the hotel was called, and entered their names.

The next morning Cromwell went round to the village drug store, kept by an old acquaintance, formerly a fellow clerk, named Leonard Grover.

"How do you do. Grover?" he said, as he entered the shop.

Grover surveyed him scrutinizingly.

"Don't you know me?" asked Cromwell.

"What! James Cromwell? How came you out here? And where have you been for some time? Sit down and tell me all about it."

The two took chairs, and Cromwell said as much as he chose to say.

"I have been employed in New York," he said, "but I got tired of that city, and came out here to see if I couldn't find an opening somewhere."

"You don't like New York, then?"

"Not particularly. At any rate, I have determined to make a change."

"Well, that is curious."

"Why curious?"

"I mean that while you are tired of New York, I am anxious to go there."

"You are? Why don't you then?"

"Because I am tied down to this store. If I could sell out to anybody for any decent price, I would start for New York, mighty quick."

"Then I suppose you are not doing well here?"

"Yes, I am doing well, but I don't think my health is as good here as at the East. Besides, I have some relations in New York, and that would make it pleasant for me to be there."

"What would you sell out for?" asked Cromwell.

"Do you mean business?"

"Yes, I have been thinking that if I could get a shop on favorable terms, I would buy one. Tell me what is the best you can do."

"If you will come in to-morrow, I will do so. I must take a little inventory of my stock, so as to see how I stand."

"Very well, I will do so."

The next day James Cromwell arranged to purchase the shop, with its present stock, at fifteen hundred dollars, cash.

"It's worth two thousand," said the proprietor, "but I am willing to sacrifice twenty-five per cent. for the sake of freeing myself. You get it dirt cheap."

"If I did not, I could not buy it at all," said Cromwell.

James Cromwell was authorized to draw upon Paul Morton for a sum not exceeding two thousand dollars, whenever he could make an arrangement to purchase a drug shop. Although he had agreed to pay fifteen hundred, he drew for the entire sum, and this draft was honored. In the course of a week all the arrangements were completed. The old sign was removed, and another put in its place bearing in large letters the name:

JAMES CROMWELL,

DRUGGIST AND APOTHECARY.

While these arrangements were in progress, Robert Raymond was left in complete ignorance of them. He spent the day in roaming over the neighborhood, with which he had by this time become quite familiar. It had occurred to him several times, to wonder why Mr. Cromwell saw fit to remain so long in a town which seemed to possess no especial attractions. He once or twice put the question, but was put off with an evasive answer, and did not repeat it.

But one morning as he walked through the principal street, he saw the new sign referred to above, going up, and he was struck with surprise.

"What does that mean, I wonder?" he asked himself.

Just at this moment James Cromwell himself appeared at the door of the shop. His hat was off, and it was evident that he was at home here.

"What does that mean, Mr. Cromwell?" asked Robert, pointing to the sign.

"It means that this shop is mine; I have bought it."

"But I thought you were only going to stay in Madison a few days? I did not know you intended to go into business here."

"No, I suppose not," said Cromwell, coolly. "I did not know that there was any necessity of telling you all my plans."

"Of course not," said Robert. "I do not wish you to tell me any more than you think proper of your affairs. But I was thinking how I should go back to New York, as now you will probably be unable to accompany me."

"Yes, I shall be unable to accompany you," said Cromwell, "but I don't think there will be any trouble about that."

"I am old enough to travel alone, I think," said Robert. "I have been over the route once with you, and I think I can get along well enough."

"You seem to have made up your mind that you are going back to New York?" said Cromwell, with a slight sneer.

"Of course. My guardian told me that I was to go on a short journey, and would return to my old school again."

"He did not tell me that," said his companion, significantly.

"What did he tell you, Mr. Cromwell?" asked Robert, beginning to feel nervous and anxious, for he was very anxious of returning to his old school, where he had many valued friends.

"He can explain that best himself," said Cromwell, in reply. "Here is a letter which he told me to hand you when the time came that rendered it necessary."

He drew forth, as he spoke, a letter from the inner pocket of his coat, addressed to

Master Robert Raymond.

Robert opened it hastily, and read in the merchant's handwriting, the following:

"Robert:—Circumstances have led me to decide that it would be best for you to remain at the West for a time, instead of returning to your former school, as you doubtless desire. It is not necessary for me to detail the reasons which have led me to this resolution. As your guardian, I must use my best discretion and judgment, and it is not for you to question either. Mr. Cromwell will look after your welfare, and make all necessary arrangements for you, such as finding a school for you to attend in the town where he decides to establish himself. Of course, you will board at the same place with him, and be under his charge. I expect you to be obedient to him in all things. Your guardian,

"Paul Morton."

Robert Raymond read this letter with mingled disappointment and indignation. He felt that he had been treated very unfairly and that he had been entrapped into this Western journey under false pretences.

He looked up after he had finished reading the letter, saying:

"Mr. Morton has not treated me right."

"Why hasn't he?"

"He ought to have told me all this before we started."

"If he had, you would have made a fuss, and he wished to avoid this."

"I think it was mean and unfair," said Robert, hotly.

"Perhaps you had better write and tell him so," said James Cromwell, sneering.

"I shall write to him," said Robert, very firmly. "My father never would have sanctioned such an arrangement as this. Besides, I don't believe there is any good school out here."

"It is just possible that there may be somebody in Madison who may know enough to teach you," said Cromwell, with an unpleasant sneer.

Robert Raymond looked at him intently. He felt instinctively that he should obtain no sympathy in his complaints, and he became silent. He went back to the hotel and wrote a letter to Mr. Morton, in which he set forth respectfully his objections to remaining at the West. The letter reached its destination, but his guardian did not see fit to answer it.