It will be understood why Mr. Lindsay had visited New York, and opened communication with Margaret Walsh. The knowledge that his sister-in-law had discovered his agency in the disappearance of her child, and the fear that she might recover her, and so deprive him of the large property for which he had intrigued, alarmed him, and led him to exert himself to frustrate, if possible, his sister’s plans.

Only two days after reaching the city, he had met Margaret in the street. He recognized her at once, and discovered without much difficulty the steps Mrs. Lindsay had this far taken. He at once offered Margaret double the reward if she would serve his interests; and granny consented, nothing loth. The first object was still to get possession of Tom. How that was effected has already been told. We will now resume our story where we left it at the end of the twenty-first chapter.

Tom walked quietly away with granny, feeling that there was no chance of immediate escape. She meant to bide her time, and break away as soon as she could. Mr. Lindsay walked on the other side of granny until they reached the Astor House.

“Stop here a minute,” he said, “I will go in and inquire when the next train starts on the Erie Road.”

The old woman did as directed. Tom could not help wondering how there should be an acquaintance between granny and a well-dressed gentleman like Mr. Lindsay. It seemed strange, yet there was an evident understanding between them.

Mr. Lindsay came out in less than five minutes.

“A train starts in an hour,” he said. “We had better go to the depot at once.”

Granny made some objection to the short notice, but he overruled it.

“It must be done,” he said, decidedly. “It is the only safe way.”

“I aint used to travellin’,” said Margaret.

“You’ve got a tongue in your head,” he said roughly. “All you’ve got to do is to inquire when you are in doubt. I will go to the depot with you, and buy your tickets.”

Mrs. Walsh made no further objection, and they took their way to the depot.

“I wonder what’s up,” thought Tom.

They reached the depot and went into the reception-room. Mr. Lindsay went out, and returned shortly with two strips of tickets, which he gave to granny, explaining in what way they would be called for. He then took out a roll of bills, and gave her. Then ensued a whispered conversation, of which Tom only heard detached words, from which she was unable to gather a definite idea. Then they entered the cars, and Mr. Lindsay left them, with a last injunction, “Mind she don’t escape.”

“I’ll take care,” nodded granny.

Soon the cars were on their way. It was the first time within her remembrance that Tom had ridden in the cars, and she looked out of the window with great interest, enjoying the rapid motion and the changing views. At last, yielding to curiosity, she turned and addressed the old woman.

“Where are we goin’, granny?”

“Never you mind!” said granny.

“But I do mind. Are we goin’ far?”

“None of your business!”

“Who was that man that gave you money? Has he got anything to do with me?”

“No,” said granny.

“Why did he give you money?”

“Because he’s a relation of mine,” said granny. “He’s my nephew.”

Tom was not in the least deceived. She knew that, if granny had a nephew, he would be a far different man from Mr. Lindsay. However, she had a curiosity to hear what granny would say, and continued asking questions.

“Then he’s a relation of mine,” said Tom.

“No he isn’t,” said granny, sharply.

“Why isn’t he? Aint you my granny?”

Mrs. Walsh could not gainsay this argument. “He’s a little of a relation to you,” she said. “He’s give me some money, so I can live with you out West. You won’t have to sweep streets no longer.”

The mystery seemed to deepen. What truth there might be in granny’s representations Tom could not tell. One thing was clear, however. Relation or not, this man had given granny money, and would probably give her more. Probably, if Tom remained with her, she would not fare as hard as formerly; but this she did not intend to do. She had come to dislike granny, who, she felt instinctively, was not really her relation, and still cherished the intention of running away as soon as there was a good opportunity.

Meanwhile the cars sped on till seventy-five miles separated them from the city. Broad fields extended on either side the railway track. To Tom, who was a true child of the city, who had rarely seen green grass, since the round of her life had been spent within a short distance of City Hall Park, it seemed strange. She wondered how it would seem to live in the country, and rather thought she should not like it.

At length they came to a station where supper was to be obtained. Granny was hungry and rose with alacrity.

“Shall I go with you?” asked Tom.

“No,” said Mrs. Walsh, “set right here. I’ll go and buy something for you.”

They were so far away from the city now that granny had no fear of Tom’s escaping, particularly as she had no money.

Tom retained her seat, therefore, and granny entered the station-house, where some of her fellow-passengers were already hurrying down their suppers.

She stepped up to the counter, and soon was engaged in a similar way.

“Will you have a cup of coffee, ma’am?” inquired the waiter.

“Haven’t you got some whiskey?” inquired the old woman.

“No, we don’t keep it.”

Granny looked disappointed. She was very fond of whiskey, and, having plenty of money, saw no reason why she should be deprived of her favorite beverage.

“Aint there any to be got near by?” she asked.

“There’s a saloon a few rods up the road,” was the reply.

“Could I find it easy?”

“Yes, there’s a sign outside. It’s a small one-story building. You can’t miss it.”

Mrs. Walsh hastily bought a couple of cakes for Tom, and hurried out of the building. There stood the cars, liable to start at any time. It was the part of prudence to get in, and granny hesitated. But the desire for a dram was strong within her, and she thought she could run over and get a glass, and be back in time. The train stopped ten minutes for refreshments, and she had not consumed more than five. The temptation proved too strong for her to resist.

She reached the saloon, and, entering, said, “Give me a glass of whiskey, quick. I’m going right off in the train.”

The whiskey was poured out, and granny drank it with a sense of exquisite enjoyment.

“Give me another,” she said.

Another was poured out, and she had half drunk it, when the whistle was heard. This recalled the old woman to the risk she incurred of being left by the train. Setting down the glass hastily, she was hurrying out of the saloon, when she was stopped by the bar-tender.

“You haven’t paid for your drinks, ma’am,” he said bluntly.

Granny saw the train just beginning to move.

“I can’t stop,” she said desperately. “I shall be left.”

“That don’t go down!” said the bar-tender, roughly; “you must pay for your drinks.”

“I’ll send it to you,” said granny, trying to break away.

“That trick won’t work,” said the man, and he clutched the old woman by the arm.

“I’ve got a gal aboard,” screamed granny, desperately, trying at the same time to break away.

“I don’t care if you’ve got forty gals aboard, you must pay.”

Mrs. Walsh drew a bill from her pocket, and, throwing it down, rushed for the train without waiting for the change. But too much time had already been lost. The cars were now speeding along at a rate which made it quite impossible for her to catch them, and get aboard.

“Stop!” she shrieked frantically, running with a degree of speed of which she would have been thought incapable. “I’ve got a gal aboard. I shall lose her.”

Some of the passengers saw her from the windows, and were inclined to laugh rather than sympathize with her evident distress.

“Serves her right!” said a grouty old fellow. “Why didn’t she come back in time?”

“There’s a woman left behind,” said another passenger to the conductor.

He shrugged his shoulders, and said, indifferently, “That’s her lookout. If she didn’t choose to come to time, she must take the consequences.”

“Couldn’t you stop the train?” asked a kind-hearted little woman.

“No ma’am. Quite impossible. We’re behind time already.”

So the train sped on, leaving granny frantic and despairing, waving her arms and screaming hoarsely, “Stop! I’ve got a gal aboard!”

“What would Mr. Lindsay say?” she could not help thinking. Only four hours had passed since Tom had been placed in her charge, and they were separated. She cared little or nothing for Tom, or her welfare, but for her own interests, which were likely to be seriously affected, she cared a great deal. She was to have a comfortable annuity as long as she kept Tom safe in custody, and that was at an end unless she could manage to get her back.

She went into the station-house, and inquired when the next train would leave. She learned that several hours must elapse. Having plenty of time, therefore, she went back to the saloon, and recovered the change due her, taking an additional glass of whiskey, to drown her chagrin and disappointment.