"Then consider yourself my prisoner, Mr. Crabtree."
"Your prisoner!"
"That is what I said."
"But why do you say I am arrested? Who are you?"
"You are arrested for plotting against the welfare of Mrs. Stanhope there and Dora Stanhope, her daughter; also for forging Dora Stanhope's name to a letter sent to the girl's mother."
"It is false. I—I— Oh!"
Josiah Crabtree staggered back, for Dora had run forward. In a second more mother and daughter were in each other's arms. An affecting scene followed. Josiah Crabtree turned a sickly green, and his knees smote together.
"I—er—that is, we—the lady and myself—there is some mistake." He tried to go on, but failed utterly.
"You fraud, you!" cried Tom, and came forward, followed by Sam. "Now, Josiah Crabtree, we are on top, and we mean to stay there. Mr. Ruff, you had better handcuff him."
"I will," returned the detective, and brought forth a pair of steel "nippers."
"Handcuff me!" groaned Crabtree. "Oh, the disgrace! No! no!"
"You ought to have thought of the disgrace
