He stated that Dale Wacker had a certain power to do him great harm. So great was his dread, that he had consented to accompany Wacker away from the town. He had managed, however, first to drop the two hundred dollars where it was later recovered by Frank. “Never mind what it was,” explained Markham, “but that boy could do me great harm. I hoped to temporize with him. He took me to a lonely farmhouse. Here he had a friend as bad as himself. They locked me up, took the mailing lists away from me, and said I should never go free till I told what I had done with your money, which, somehow, Wacker knew I had in my possession when he first overtook me. It was at the farmhouse that I made up that letter to Haven Brothers. I dropped it next day from a wagon in which they drove me to the mine.” “All right, Markham,” said Frank, “there’s more to tell I know, but you’ll tell me when the right time comes, I am sure.” “The right time will soon be here, never fear,” declared Markham, with emotion. “I have written a letter that will bring me a friend who will quickly clear up all this mystery.” The old office had been cut up into four rooms. A young lady kept the books. Frank had engaged a crippled young man as a stenographer, and he was a good one. Markham and himself had each an office to himself. Upstairs was the stock and shipping rooms employing four boys. “System and sense” had been Frank’s watchwords--the mail order business was a pronounced success on that basis. “A gentleman to see you,” spoke the stenographer, arousing Frank from a most pleasing day dream. Frank looked up to greet a bronzed, earnest-eyed man of middle age. He was erect and military in his bearing. “Is a young man named Markham employed here?” inquired the stranger. “He is interested in the business here, yes,” said Frank. This would have been news to Markham himself. The wire puzzle had brought in lots of money. Frank had planned to tell Markham that very evening that the latter should have a settled, tangible interest in the mail order business. “I did not know that,” said the visitor, with a quick sparkle in his eyes that Frank could not at all understand. “I very much wish to see him.” “He is away on some business,” explained Frank, “but I think he will return within an hour.” “May I wait?” politely inquired the gentleman. “Certainly,” said Frank, “just step into his office.” Frank ushered the stranger into the next office, pulled a chair near the window, and handed him the daily paper from the city. He resumed his work. Engrossed in this, he almost forgot about the waiting stranger. Frank finally discovered that over an hour had gone by. He stepped to the door of the adjoining office. “I am sorry for your long wait, sir,” he said, “but I feel certain Markham will be here soon. Is it anything I can attend to for him?” “No,” was the definite reply.