one box stood a candle thrust in the neck of a bottle, some liquor and glasses, and a pasteboard box containing a cold lunch.
"So you're glad I've come, eh?" Dan Baxter was saying to his father.
"Yes, I am glad," was the slow reply. "I—that is—I want to get away from here as soon as possible."
"Why don't you go?"
"I'm afraid to go up into the town. I would prefer to go away by boat."
"To where?"
"To Searock, on the Jersey coast."
"Do you want us to take you there?"
"If you can do it, Dan. I'll give Mumps and your sailor friend a nice little sum for your trouble."
"And don't I get anything?" cried the son sharply.
"To be sure, Dan."
"How much?"
"I'll give you a hundred dollars."
"Pooh! what's that? I want more."
"We'll arrange that later."
"You and Girk are making a fortune out of this—this deal."
"Not as much as you think."
"I've read the newspapers and I know how
