“I cannot open the door of your room. They do not trust me with the key.”
“The windows are not very high from the ground. I can get down from the outside.”
“I will bring you a clothesline and a hatchet.”
Frank received them with exultation.
“Before I attempt to escape,” he said, “tell me where I can meet you in New York. I want you to go with me to Mr. Wharton’s. I shall need you to confirm my story.”
“I will meet you to-morrow at No. 15 B–Street.”
“Then we shall meet to-morrow. What shall I call your name?”
“Mrs. Parker.”
“Thank you. I will get away as quickly as possible, and when we are in the city we will talk over our future plans.”
With the help of the hatchet, Frank soon demolished the lower part of the window. Fastening the rope to the bedstead, he got out of the window and safely descended to the ground.
A long and fatiguing walk lay before him. But at last he reached the cars, and half an hour later the ferry at Jersey City.
Frank thought himself out of danger for the time being, but he was mistaken.
Standing on the deck of the ferryboat, and looking back to the pier from which he had just started, he met the glance of a man who had intended to take the same boat, but had reached the pier just too late. His heart beat quicker when he recognized in the belated passenger his late jailer, Nathan Graves.
Carried away by his rage and disappointment, Nathan Graves clenched his fist and shook it at his receding victim.
Our hero walked into the cabin. He wanted a chance to deliberate. He knew that Nathan Graves would follow him by the next boat, and it was important that he should not find him. Where was he to go?
Fifteen minutes after Frank set foot on the pier, his enemy also landed. But now the difficult part of the pursuit began. He had absolutely no clew as to the direction which Frank had taken.
For an hour and a half he walked the streets in the immediate neighborhood of the square, but his labor was without reward. Not a glimpse could he catch of his late prisoner.
“I suppose I must go to see Mr. Wade,” he at last reluctantly decided. “He may be angry, but he can’t blame me. I did my best. I couldn’t stand guard over the young rascal all day.”
The address which the housekeeper had given Frank was that of a policeman’s family in which she was at one time a boarder. On giving his reference, he was hospitably received, and succeeded in making arrangements for a temporary residence.
About seven o’clock Mrs. Parker made her appearance. She wag fatigued by her journey and glad to rest.
“I was afraid you might be prevented from coming,” said Frank.
“I feared it also. I was about to start at twelve o’clock, when, to my dismay, one of the men came home. He said he had the headache. I was obliged to make him some tea and toast. He remained about till four o’clock, when, to my relief, he went upstairs to lie down. I was afraid some inquiry might be made about you, and your absence discovered, especially as the rope was still hanging out of the window, and I was unable to do anything more than cut off the lower end of it. When the sick man retired to his bed I instantly left the house, fearing that the return of some other of the band might prevent my escaping altogether.”
“Suppose you had met one of them, Mrs. Parker?”
“I did. It was about half a mile from the house.”
“Did he recognize you?”
“Yes. He asked in some surprise where I was going. I was obliged to make up a story about our being out of sugar. He accepted it without suspicion, and I kept on. I hope I shall be forgiven for the lie. I was forced to it.”
“You met no further trouble?”
“No.”
“I must tell you of my adventure,” said Frank.
“I came across the very man whom I most dreaded– the man who made me a prisoner.”