The next day Jack had another visit from Foley. "Well," said the old man, nodding, "have you thought over my proposal?"
"What should I have to do?" asked Jack.
"Sometimes one thing, and sometimes another. At first we might employ you to put off some of the bills."
"That would be easy work, anyway," said Jack.
"Yes, there is nothing hard about that, except to look innocent."
"I can do that," said Jack, laughing.
"You're smart; I can tell by the looks of you."
"Do you really think so?" returned Jack, appearing flattered.
"Yes; you'll make one of our best hands."
"I suppose Mrs. Hardwick is in your employ?"
"Perhaps she is, and perhaps she isn't," said Foley, noncommittally. "That is something you don't need to know."
"Oh, I don't care to know," said Jack, carelessly. "I only asked. I was afraid you would set me to work down in the cellar."
"You don't know enough about the business. We need skilled workmen. You couldn't do us any good there."
"I shouldn't like it, anyway. It must be unpleasant to be down there."
"We pay the workmen you saw good pay."
"Yes, I suppose so. When do you want me to begin?"
"I can't tell you just yet. I'll think about it."
"I hope it'll be soon, for I'm tired of staying here. By the way, that's a capital idea about the secret staircase. Who'd ever think the portrait concealed it?" said Jack.
As he spoke he advanced to the portrait in an easy, natural manner, and touched the spring.
Of course it flew open. The old man also drew near.
"That was my idea," he said, in a complacent tone. "Of course we have to keep everything as secret as possible, and I flatter myself—"
His remark came to a sudden pause. He had incautiously got between Jack and the open door. Now our hero, who was close upon eighteen, and strongly built, was considerably more than a match in physical strength for Foley. He suddenly seized the old man, thrust him through the aperture, then closed the secret door, and sprang for the door of the room.
The key was in the lock where Foley, whose confidence made him careless, had left it. Turning it, he hurried downstairs, meeting no one on the way. To open the front door and dash through it was the work of an instant. As he descended the stairs he could hear the muffled shout of the old man whom he had made prisoner, but this only caused him to accelerate his speed.
Jack now directed his course as well as he could toward his uncle's shop. One thing, however, he did not forget, and that was to note carefully the position of the shop in which he had been confined.
"I shall want to make another visit there," he reflected.
Meantime, as may well be supposed, Abel Harding had suffered great anxiety on account of Jack's protracted absence. Several days had elapsed and still he was missing.
"I am afraid something has happened to Jack," he remarked to his wife on the afternoon of Jack's escape. "I think Jack was probably rash and imprudent, and I fear, poor boy, he may have come to harm."
"He may be confined by the parties who have taken his sister."
"It is possible that it is no worse. At all events, I don't think it right to keep it from Timothy any longer. I've put off writing as long as I could, hoping Jack would come back, but I don't feel as if it would be right to hold it back any longer. I shall write this evening."
"Better wait till morning, Abel. Who knows but we may hear from Jack before that time?"
"If we'd been going to hear we'd have heard before this," he said.
Just at that moment the door was flung open.
"Why, it's Jack!" exclaimed the baker, amazed.
"I should say it was," returned Jack. "Aunt, have you got anything to eat? I'm 'most famished."
"Where in the name of wonder have you been, Jack?"
"I've been shut up, uncle—boarded and lodged for nothing—by some people who liked my company better than I liked theirs. But I've just made my escape, and here I am, well, hearty and hungry."
Jack's appetite was soon provided for. He found time between the mouthfuls to describe the secret staircase, and his discovery of the unlawful occupation of the man who acted as his jailer.
The baker listened with eager interest.
"Jack," said he, "you've done a good stroke of business."
"In getting away?" said Jack.
"No, in ferreting out these counterfeiters. Do you know there is a reward of a thousand dollars offered for their apprehension?"
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Jack, laying down his knife and fork. "Do you think I can get it?"
"You'd better try. The gang has managed matters so shrewdly that the authorities have been unable to get any clew to their whereabouts. Can you go to the house?"
"Yes; I took particular notice of its location."
"That's lucky. Now, if you take my advice, you'll inform the authorities before they have time to get away."
"I'll do it!" said Jack. "Come along, uncle."
Fifteen minutes later, Jack was imparting his information to the chief of police. It was received with visible interest and excitement.
"I will detail a squad of men to go with you," said the chief. "Go at once. No time is to be lost."
In less than an hour from the time Jack left the haunt of the coiners, an authoritative knock was heard at the door.
It was answered by Foley.
The old man turned pale as he set eyes on Jack and the police, and comprehended the object of the visit.
"What do you want, gentlemen?" he asked.
"Is that the man?" asked the sergeant of Jack.
"Yes."
"Secure him."
"I know him," said Foley, with a glance of hatred directed at Jack. "He's a thief. He's been in my employ, but he's run away with fifty dollars belonging to me."
"I don't care about stealing the kind of money you deal in," said Jack, coolly. "It's all a lie this man tells you."
"Why do you arrest me?" said Foley. "It's an outrage. You have no right to enter my house like this."
"What is your business?" demanded the police sergeant.
"I'm a physician."
"If you are telling the truth, no harm will be done you. Meanwhile, we must search your house. Where is that secret staircase?"
"I'll show you," answered Jack.
He showed the way upstairs.
"How did you get out?" he asked Foley, as he touched the spring, and the secret door flew open.
"Curse you!" exclaimed Foley, darting a look of hatred and malignity at him. "I wish I had you in my power once more. I treated you too well."
We need not follow the police in their search. The discoveries which they made were ample to secure the conviction of the gang who made this house the place of their operations. To anticipate a little, we may say that Foley was sentenced to imprisonment for a term of years, and his subordinates to a term less prolonged. The reader will also be glad to know that to our hero was awarded the prize of a thousand dollars which had been offered for the apprehension of the gang of counterfeiters.
But there was another notable capture made that day.
Mrs. Hardwick was accustomed to make visits to Foley to secure false bills, and to make settlement for what she had succeeded in passing off.
While Jack and the officers were in the house she rang the door bell.
Jack went to the door.
"How is this?" she asked.
"Oh," said Jack, "it's all right. Come in. I've gone into the business, too."
Mrs. Hardwick entered. No sooner was she inside than Jack closed the door.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, suspiciously. "Let me out."
But Jack was standing with his back to the door. The door to the right opened, and a policeman appeared.
"Arrest this woman," said Jack. "She's one of them."
"I suppose I must yield," said Peg, sulkily; "but you shan't be a gainer by it," she continued, addressing Jack.
"Where is Ida?" asked our hero, anxiously.
"She is safe," said Peg, sententiously.
"You won't tell me where she is?"
"No; why should I? I suppose I am indebted to you for this arrest. She shall be kept out of your way as long as I have power to do so."
"Then I shall find her," said Jack. "She is somewhere in the city, and I'll find her sooner or later."
Peg was not one to betray her feelings, but this arrest was a great disappointment to her. It interfered with a plan she had of making a large sum out of Ida. To understand what this was, we must go back a day or two, and introduce a new character.