Then, as to this madman, Walker. He would not be likely to go again to Captain Bradshaw. That was most unlikely. Nor would Captain Bradshaw be likely to go to him. As to his threat to dog him, and tell everyone about the affair, that was unpleasant—very unpleasant—and must, if possible, be put a stop to; but at any rate, it would not be likely to come to Captain Bradshaw's ears. None of Fred's friends were acquainted with his uncle; and if Walker were to see them all, and tell his story, his uncle would not come to hear of it from them. What other danger was there?—Alice? Yes, Alice was certainly a danger. He did not exactly see how. But she disliked him, and was very fond of Frank. She was a thoughtful, earnest girl, and would be very likely to take some steps to inquire further. It was even possible that she might go and see Stephen Walker himself. “Yes,” he thought, “Alice is quite capable of that; and if she does so, it is all up with me.” Fred stopped in his walk at this new thought. This was, indeed, a danger—a danger against which he saw no prevention. In vain did he think over every possible plan, but nothing satisfactory could be imagined. “No,” he said at last, as he walked on again; “if she does that I am lost. My only hope is to get him out of the way: and how that is to be done, I don't see.” CHAPTER XIV. A SHOP TO LET. ONE thing Fred Bingham quite settled in his mind as he walked slowly in the direction of Hans Place, and that was that he would on no account tell his father of the mistake which had occurred. Mr. Bingham might be a sharp practitioner, but Fred felt that even to shield him it was possible that his father might refuse to have anything to do with this scheme of laying the blame upon Frank Maynard's shoulders. Even should he consent to conceal the truth, the hold which the knowledge of such a secret as this would give him, would be most unpleasant. It was quite possible that he and his father might not always get on well together, for the latter, Fred thought, was hardly sharp enough for the times, and might become a drag. No, certainly, Mr. Bingham must not be told. “Well, Fred, what news?” Mr. Bingham asked, as Fred went into his study. “Better than I could have expected,” Fred said, cheerfully. “The old gentleman, of course, did the savage, but I was extremely penitent, and made an impression on him. Of course he gave me a long lecture upon the heinousness of the offence, but we parted pretty good friends, and I fancy it will all come right in the long run.” “Perhaps he may seem friends, Fred, but when he dies you may find he has left every penny to Frank.”