closed up." "And have you done nothing toward his recovery?" "Yes, I have sent out two men in search of him." "Have you any idea where he is, or what he is doing?" "Yes, he has been seen in front of the Astor House, selling papers. I have authorized my agent, if he sees him again, to follow him home, and find out where he lives." "That is good! Astor House? I may see him myself." "But why do you want to see him? Do you want to restore him to his rights?" "Hush!" said Curtis, glancing around him apprehensively. "What we say may be overheard and excite suspicion. One thing may be secured by finding him--the knowledge of Florence's whereabouts." "What makes you think she and the boy are together?" "He came for her trunk. I was away from home, or I would not have let it go----" "It is strange that they two are together, considering their relationship." "That is what I am afraid they will find out. She may tell him of the mysterious disappearance of her cousin, and he----" "That reminds me," interrupted Bolton. "He told Hooker--Hooker was the man that saw him in front of the Astor House--that he didn't believe I was his father. He said he thought I must have stolen him when he was a young kid." "Did he say that?" asked Curtis, in evident alarm. "Yes, so Hooker says." "If he has that idea in his head, he may put two and two together, and guess that he is the long-lost cousin of Florence. Tim, the boy must be got rid of." "If you mean what I think you do, Mr. Waring, I'm not with you. I won't consent to harm the boy." "You said that before. I don't mean anything that will shock your tender heart, Bolton," said Curtis, with a sneer. "I mean carried to a distance--Europe or Australia, for instance. All I want is to keep him