Frank and Fearless Part 34

"Probably between thirty and forty thousand dollars."

"As much as that?" said d.i.c.k, complacently. "Well, she has feathered her nest well."

"I don't like Mrs. Kent," said Jasper. "Though she is your sister, I am obliged to say that, but it is not at all on account of the property my father left her. If he had given her one-half his estate I would not have complained, as long as she treated me fairly."

"Helen was always a hard customer. She's got a will of her own,"

chuckled d.i.c.k.

"There was no hope of our getting on together," said Jasper.

"She ought to do something for me--don't you think so? I'm her only brother."

"As to that," said Jasper, "my opinion wouldn't have any weight with her. If you are poor and need help, it would be only natural for her to help you."

"That's the way to talk! You won't say anything against me to her?"

"Certainly not," said Jasper. "I shall not write to her at all; and even if I did, I wouldn't try to interfere with her disposing of her property in any way she thinks best."

"Come, you're a trump, after all. I like you. You're plucky, too."

"Thank you."

"I'll say a good word for you to my sister when I see her."

"You'd better not," said Jasper. "If she thinks you are friendly to me you'll stand a poor chance of any favors. Better abuse me."

d.i.c.k roared with laughter.

"I say, youngster, you're a smart 'un. I see you're friendly by your hint. I'll abuse you to her, never fear. You must take a drink on that.

Say, old woman, where's the whisky?"

"There's not a drop in the house, d.i.c.k."

"I forgot. Curse the luck!"

Just then a man entered the house only less brutal-looking than d.i.c.k himself.

He held a letter in his hand.

d.i.c.k seized it eagerly.

"It's from the father of the boy," he said.

The letter proved to contain fifty dollars.

"I send this in advance," said the writer. "When the boy is safely delivered into my hands a hundred and fifty more will be paid to the one who brings him, and no questions asked. Herman Fitch."

"Good!" said d.i.c.k, "as far as it goes. I'm ready to give up the brat, but will his father keep faith? Perhaps he'll have the police on hand ready to nab me."

"Haven't you anybody to send--anybody you can trust?"

d.i.c.k slapped his knee forcibly. An idea had come to him.

"I'll send him in charge of the brat," he said, pointing to Jasper.

CHAPTER XXI.

JASPER IS INTRUSTED WITH A DELICATE COMMISSION.

"Look here, boy," said d.i.c.k, "do you want a job?"

"Yes," said Jasper, "if it's honest."

"No fear of that. I want you to take that boy home to his father."

"I'll do it," said Jasper, eagerly.

"How much pay do you want?"

"None at all, except money to pay my fare in the cars."

"You're the right sort," said d.i.c.k, with satisfaction. "But there's another matter I've got to think about. How do I know but you will betray me?"

"How?"

"Put the police on my track."

"If you hadn't given up the boy I might," said Jasper, frankly.

d.i.c.k regarded him attentively.

"You're bold," he said. "Then you won't betray me now."

"No."

"Promise it."

"I promise--that is, if you send the boy home by me."

"All right; that's understood. Now for another matter. Read that letter."

Jasper read the letter of Herman Fitch, already quoted.

"You see this man, the boy's father, agrees to pay one hundred and fifty dollars when he is given up."