Frank could readily see that Grant Deems was more angry than ever, and ready to do something rash. Realizing that the fellow might attack him without further words, he leaped behind the table and picked up one of his books, which happened to be lying handy.

“Deems, this is my private room and I want you to get out of it,” said he, as calmly as possible.

“I tell you I’m going to settle matters with you!” yelled Grant Deems, who was almost beside himself with rage.

“This is a private boarding house,” went on our hero. “If you raise a disturbance Miss Littell will most likely have you put out.”

“I don’t care if she does have me put out!”

“Don’t you? Well, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. She is a nice lady and it’s ill-mannered of you to make her any trouble.”

“Oh, I know her! She sides with you!” sneered the rival book agent.

“If she does, it is because she knows I am in the right.”

“Stuff and nonsense! You stole one of my customers away from me this afternoon. I stopped at the house just after you left.”

“You mean, Mr. Risley, who bought my set of famous novels?”

“Yes. I had his order. You stole it away from me,” fumed Grant Deems.

“Mr. Risley has a right to buy what books he pleases. If you have his order why don’t you fill it?”

“He doesn’t want two sets of books.”

“That is none of my affair.”

“You stole that order from me, and I’m going to take it out of your hide!” cried Grant Deems, and started toward Frank.

“Keep back!” ordered our hero, and made a move as if to throw the book at his rival’s head.

Seeing this movement, Grant Deems picked up a chair and threw it at Frank. Our hero dodged and was about to throw the book at the fellow when the door opened and a man-of-all-work, hired by the boarding house keeper, rushed in and caught Grant Deems by the collar. The man was followed by Miss Littell.

“Ain’t going to be no rumpus in this house,” said the man-of-all-work. “Let up, quick!”

“Make him leave the house, Michael,” said Miss Littell.

“Miss Littell, this is not my fault,” put in Frank. “I am sorry it occurred.”

“I know it is not your fault, Mr. Hardy. I was passing through the hall and heard all that was said. Mr. Deems, you must leave my house at once. If you don’t go, I’ll call an officer.”

“What, will you have me arrested?” gasped Grant Deems, and turned slightly pale.

“I certainly shall, unless you pay what you owe and leave at once.”

“All right, I’ll leave, and glad to go,” growled the rival book agent. “I don’t want to stay in a house with such a fellow as Hardy.”

“And I’ll be glad to get rid of your company,” rejoined Frank, warmly.

Grant Deems wanted to grow abusive, but the ugly look in Michael’s eye made him think better of it, and he left the apartment without another word. An hour later he packed his valise, settled with Miss Littell, and left not only the boarding house but also the town. It was the last our hero saw of him.

“I don’t want to meet such a rival again,” said our hero, in talking the matter over with Miss Littell. “I do not mind fair and square competition, but Mr. Deems was not fair.”

“I am sorry I let him have a room,” was the boarding house mistress’ reply. “I must confess he did not impress me favorably when first he made his appearance.”

“I presume you want the room occupied, Miss Littell.”

“That’s just it; I need the money, for I have a mortgage coming due and it must be paid.”

“I see. Well, perhaps somebody else will soon come to take the room,” answered Frank. He was right in this surmise; a gentleman came the next day, who took the apartment Grant Deems had occupied, and paid a dollar per week more for board. So in the end Miss Littell was better off than before.

Frank remained in the vicinity of Brentwood nearly two weeks. Business was very good with him, and he not only sold his new books but also bought up several rare volumes which, later on, brought him in a profit of twenty-two dollars. He considered that he was on the highroad to success, and was correspondingly happy.

From Brentwood he went to Colton and then to a large city which I shall call Coalville, for several important coal mines were not far distant. Here business was not quite so good, and much bad weather made him spend some days indoors, but all told, he did enough to keep from complaining.

“It can’t be good all the time,” he reasoned. “If it was I’d be a rich man in no time. I’ve got to take my share of hard knocks.”

While Frank was at Coalville he received a long letter from his father, part of which ran as follows:

“We are all more than pleased to hear of your wonderful success. You are evidently cut out for the book business, just as Mr. Vincent said.

“Yesterday I received another visit from a lawyer representing the railroad company. The company now wish to pay me seven hundred dollars for my injuries. I have referred them again to Mr. Begoin, and he advises me to take two thousand dollars and not a cent less.

“He says he feels sure I can expect that much. If I get it, it will be a big lift to us.

“So far we have heard nothing further from Jabez Garrison. More than likely he has fled from the country.

“We have just received a letter from your brother Mark. He mailed it at Santiago, Cuba. His ship was then about to sail for Charleston, so it won’t be long before he is again at a United States port. He does not know how soon he will reach Philadelphia and receive his discharge.”

“Mark is a sailor, sure,” thought Frank, after reading the communication. “But I hope when he gets home he will be content to settle down.”

Our hero was sorry to learn that nothing more had been heard of Jabez Garrison. Perhaps the man had disappeared for all time.

Frank had never visited a coal mine, and on a Sunday afternoon he took a walk to where there was an abandoned mine. He was accompanied by a boy named Darry Field, who lived at the hotel at which the young book agent was stopping.

Darry was a nice lad, and Frank had taken to him from the start.

“I know that old mine from end to end,” said Darry. “I can show you every nook and corner of it.”

“How can we get down the shaft?” questioned Frank. “There isn’t any car running, is there?”

“We won’t have to go down by way of the shaft. There was once a cave-in, along the mountain side, and we can get into the mine that way.”

“Is it safe? I have heard that some old mines are filled with gas and foul air.”

“This is perfectly safe—I’ve been into it a dozen times,” answered Darry, confidently.

After a walk of an hour, Frank and his companion reached the side of the mountain where the cave-in had occurred, and Darry showed how the mine could be entered.

“You are certain of the way—we don’t want to get lost, you know.”

“Are you afraid?” asked Darry, with a light laugh.

“No, but I want to be sure of what I am doing.”

“I know just what I am doing.”

“Then lead the way,” said Frank.

His companion had brought with him a regular miner’s lamp and this they lit, and walked into the mine.

The sight to be seen was certainly a novel one, and they went in deeper and deeper, while Darry explained how the mine had been worked.

“Now, I’ll show you where the mules’ stable was located,” said Darry, presently. “You know, of course, that some mules in coal mines never see the light of day, but live underground all their lives.”

“I have heard of that,” answered our hero. “It is a horrible existence!”

“Yes, I shouldn’t want to be a mine mule,” said Darry.

After the stable was visited, Darry led the way to a spot where three miners had once lost their lives through an explosion.

“You must be careful how you walk here,” he said. “There are a number of dangerous pitfalls.”

“Yes, and here is one right ahead of us,” came from Frank. He pointed to a hole several feet in diameter and of uncertain depth.

In a few minutes more they reached the spot where the explosion had occurred. Here the wood-work of the mine was horribly wrecked and splintered, showing that the explosion had been a terrific one.

“I shouldn’t want to have been in such an explosion,” said Frank. “Did any of them escape alive?”

“Yes, one, but he died in the hospital the next day.”

Just beyond the place where the explosion had occurred was another large and dark opening, and into this both boys peered but could see nothing.

“I guess it’s a hundred and more feet deep—” began Darry, when of a sudden the lamp slipped from his hand and fell down into the opening, leaving them in total darkness.