Stephen Palmer, since his discomfiture, had not visited his step-mother or Grace. He felt that he hated the whole family, but most of all Paul. A bully never forgives the one, boy or man, who humiliates him; and Stephen felt the more mortified and incensed because our hero was so much younger than himself. Paul was his equal in height, but Stephen was broader and stronger, and but for his habits of intoxication, which robbed him of his strength, would have given his young brother a good deal of trouble.

When Luke Denton first unfolded to Stephen the plan he had in view for getting Paul into trouble, the young man was delighted.

"What a head you've got, Luke!" he said, admiringly.

"You like the plan, then?" said Luke, who did not object to flattery, though he had a very poor opinion of Stephen's understanding.

"It's capital! Couldn't be better!" exclaimed Stephen."I flatter myself it's rather a clever notion," said Luke, complacently. "You don't mind your brother being arrested for theft, then?"

"No, curse him! He sets up for a young saint, lectures me, who am almost old enough to be his father."

"Still, he is your brother," said Luke, dryly.

"A pretty sort of brother he is! Why, he wouldn't give me a penny to save me from starvation. The other day, when I was dead broke, and wanted to borrow a trifle, he made such a row that I had to give it up. There isn't any love lost between Paul and me."

"What will become of your mother and sister if Paul goes to prison?"

"I don't know, and I don't care," said Stephen, spitting viciously. "They may starve, for all I care."

"Upon my word, you're a relation worth having," said Luke, lazily puffing at a meerschaum pipe, for he was somewhat fastidious in his tastes, and disdained the common clay pipe which Stephen was not above using.

In truth, he despised the man with whom he nevertheless spent a considerable part of his time. There was a community of vice between them, but Luke was by nature refined and Stephen coarse.

"You wouldn't expect me to take the young puppy's place and work for them, would you?" demanded Stephen.

"If I had a mother and sister, I would do just that," said Denton; and he spoke with sincerity, for, with all his want of principle, he was not without domestic affection.

"You wouldn't if you had folks like mine," said Stephen. "They don't care a pinch of snuff for me."

"Strange, when you are so attractive—have such taking ways," said Luke, ironically.

"Don't talk that way, Luke Denton, for I don't like it," returned Stephen, sullenly.

"You must let me have my little joke, Stephen. What would the world be without innocent mirth and friendly banter? So you like my plan?"

"Yes; but can you do it? Can you play the Quaker?"

"Dost thee doubt it?"

Stephen went off into a fit of laughter, though there didn't seem much to laugh at.

"Don't be frivolous. Restrain thy mirth, and fix thy mind on serious things," continued Luke, in a tone which he thought befitting the words.

Again Stephen betrayed symptoms of suffocation.

He went out with Denton, and assisted in dressing him in the costume which he hired for the successful personation of a quiet Friend."You'll do," he said, in high satisfaction.

"Dost thee feel sure, friend Stephen?"

"Oh, you're too funny for anything! Shall I go with you to the depot?"

"Not for a hundred dollars! It would destroy my reputation as a grave and upright Quaker to be seen in such disreputable company. I will go my ways alone, friend Stephen, but anon I will return and favor thee with a report of my success. If I don't fail, that young brother of yours will spend the night at the station-house."

"When he is tried I'll go and see it. It'll be nuts to me to see the young sneak tried for theft."

"I'll do my best to carry out your kind wishes for his welfare."

So Luke Denton set out on his errand, and we already know how he fared—how into the pit which he dug for another he fell himself. It was he and not Paul that spent the night in confinement.

Stephen waited impatiently for his return. He was eager to hear the details of the scheme, which he did not doubt would turn out as he wished. He wanted to hear how Paul acted when confronted with the charge of theft, and was impatient to have the afternoon pass away and Denton return.

But he waited in vain an hour or more after the train should be in, and still his friend did not appear. Still, he did not dream that Denton himself had got into trouble, and was hindered by circumstances which he could not control from coming round to see him.

As time passed he became more restless and anxious.

"Denton might have come round to tell me," he muttered, peevishly. "He might have known that I would want to hear."

After awhile he concluded to go round to Denton's lodgings and see if he were in. He might be tired, and lying down.

It was not far he had to go. Luke Denton lived in more style than himself. When he was able he paid his rent, and when his purse was low he did not pay. If, after a time, his landlady became importunate, he removed to some other place. Probably he did not pay more rent—perhaps not as much—in the course of a year as Stephen, for he had a more persuasive and plausible manner, and could obtain credit on the score of his appearance, while Stephen's only went against him.

"Is Mr. Denton in?" asked Stephen, of the servant who answered his summons.

"No, sir."

"I suppose he has been in this evening?""No; he went away early in the day, and has not been home since."

"Can anything have happened to him?" thought Stephen. "No, he could take care of himself. But what a fool I am!" he exclaimed, with a sudden thought. "Of course he wouldn't come home in those Quaker clothes. Very likely he's carried 'em back to the place where he borrowed 'em."

So Stephen went round there, but found the place closed. There seemed no way of finding out what he wanted to know that night. Yes, there was. He would go round to the lodgings of Mrs. Palmer, and find out whether Paul had returned. If not, he would be safe in frightening them and demanding a loan, for, as usual, he was short of money.

"That's a good idea," he said to himself. "If Paul isn't at home, and has not been home, I'll know it's all right, and Luke will be round in good time to tell me how it all came out. Yes, that's the best thing I can do."

So Stephen bent his steps in the direction of his step-mother's humble home.

When his knock was heard, Paul said:

"Mother, that's Stephen's knock. Don't let him know where I am. I'll hide in the next room, and hear what he has to say. I suspect he had something to do with the attempt that was made to get me into trouble to-day. Perhaps I can find out."

"If he asks me if you are here, what am I to say? I must tell the truth."

Paul whispered a few words in his mother's ear, and then hastily retreated into the inner room, while Mrs. Palmer went forward and opened the door to her step-son.