TOM WAS up and about early the next morning. But there was one who was earlier than he. On leaving the robbers he saw the captain pacing to and fro, apparently engrossed by his reflections. When he saw Tom he beckoned to him.

“Take a walk with me,” he said abruptly. “I want to speak to you.”

Tom, of course, joined him promptly.

“Let us go further away,” said the robber, looking about him cautiously. “What I have to say is for your ears alone.”

“I shall take care to keep it secret,” said Tom in a low voice.

“You must, for I am about to say what will compromise my safety. But, in the first place, can you guarantee that I shall receive ten thousand dollars on the delivery of these papers?”

“I can,” said Tom promptly. “Mr. Armstrong has authorized me to make such an offer.”

“Is he a man to be relied upon? You know my position. I am an outlaw. I cannot appeal to the law in my own behalf.”

“I understand your position fully,” said Tom. “As to your being an outlaw, I have nothing to do with that, nor has Mr. Armstrong. You have in your possession the papers which we need. It is worth our while to pay ten thousand dollars. You may be sure the money will be paid, and that no trap will be set for you. Should you be recognized, it will not be through any information obtained from me or Mr. Armstrong.”

“That is enough,” said the captain. “Though you are only a boy, there is something about you that I can trust. You understand business. You have gone to the root of the matter without any unnecessary words. I will confide in you, and in so confiding I put my life in your hands.”

Tom listened with surprise. He could not understand what was coming.

The captain proceeded:

“You know me as the captain of a band of robbers, but you do not understand that I have in a manner been forced into my position. I don’t like the life I am leading. I want to leave it, and I think I see the way. With the money you promise me, I will change my name, go to some obscure place, and lead a respectable life, entering upon some business of which I shall not be ashamed.”

“Do so,” said Tom earnestly. “I am glad to hear you say this, and I will do what I can to help you.”

The captain appeared pleased with his prompt sympathy and proceeded:

“Of course my plan must be a profound secret. If the band were to learn what I propose I should never live to leave California. They would regard me as a traitor and a renegade, and would feel that they were entitled to a share in the money obtained for these bonds.”

“How, then, will you manage to leave?” asked Tom, interested.

“I will tell you. I shall say that I am going to San Francisco in disguise to negotiate these securities, and will bring back the proceeds. I hope this will deceive them. But the one whom I dread the most is Alonzo.”

“The lieutenant?”

“Yes; he is my second in command. Our relations have not always been cordial. He is in the habit of exceeding his proper authority, and more than once I have been compelled to reprimand him publicly. Though he has taken it quietly, I have reason to believe that he never forgave me—that, in fact, he cherishes a secret grudge against me, and that he would willingly undermine my authority with the band. He has not as yet had an opportunity.”

“I should think, then, that he would be glad to have you leave, in order that he might succeed to your authority.”

“That would not satisfy him. He would not be willing to have me better myself in so doing. He would prefer that I should be cast adrift in disgrace.”

“Have you decided upon your plan?” asked our hero.

“Yes; after breakfast I will dismiss you and the other prisoners. They will go on to the mines, I suppose.”

“Yes, I think so.”

“You will not.”

“No; I shall return to San Francisco.”

“Good. I shall follow you. It would create suspicion if we should go together. You shall give me your address there, and I will join you. Then we will take the first steamer to New York.”

Tom nodded. He felt that the plan was a good one, and that he was now in a fair way to accomplish successfully the object which had brought him so far from home.

“Agreed,” he said, “Call for me at Burton’s clothing store, —— Street, Even if I am not staying there, you will learn where I am.”

The captain repeated the name two or three times.

“I will not forget it,” he said. “Of one thing I will apprise you. You must not expect to know me at first meeting.”

“Why not?”

“I shall be cleverly disguised. It is necessary, for unfortunately I am not altogether unknown to the authorities. Once let me get away from California, and I shall feel comparatively safe. I may as well tell you by what name I prefer to be known. I shall call myself James Davenport. Under that name, if fortune favors me, I hope to build up a respectable future, far from the scene of my lawless proceedings.”

Tom knew little of the man who was walking beside him, except what he had chosen to communicate. He knew not in what ways he had violated the laws, nor did he now take this into consideration. He pictured him as a man who wanted to forsake the evil of his ways, and become a respectable and law-abiding citizen, and with the instinct of a generous nature, he felt like doing all in his power to help him, apart from any selfish interest of his own. Instinctively he held out his hand, and the captain grasped it in his own.

“Whatever may happen,” said the robber, “I shall have full confidence in your word. You have it in your power to denounce me to the authorities in San Francisco, but I am sure you will not do it.”

“You only do me justice,” said Tom.

“Or you could reveal my purpose to these men under my command, and this would insure my death, provided they had confidence in your word.”

“You are not afraid of that?” asked Tom, looking him full in the face.

“No,” said the captain. “As I said in the first place, there is something about you that enlists my confidence. I would trust you as myself.”

“You may,” said Tom.

They had turned back, and were again near the building occupied by the band. Only one was stirring. This was Alonzo, who watched their approach.

“You are up early, captain,” he said.

“Yes,” returned the captain carelessly; “I have been taking a walk. I did not sleep well.”

“What is on his mind?” thought the lieutenant. “Something is up. I can see it in his manner. I must watch him.”

“I don’t like his looks,” thought Tom. “He is a dangerous man. The captain does right in suspecting him.”