As he got out of the boat he pressed a dollar into Willie’s reluctant hand. “Now, which way had I better go?” “Take that footpath. It will lead to Medfield. There you can take the cars.” “Good-by, Willie; and thank you.” Willie didn’t row back immediately. John Fox was lying in wait on the other side, and he didn’t care to meet him. Harry pushed on till he reached a highway. He felt in doubt as to where it might lead him, but followed it at a venture. He wondered whether John Fox would pursue him, and from time to time looked back to make sure that his guardian was not on his trail. In about three hours he found himself eight miles away. Then, for the first time, he felt that it might be safe to stop and rest. In a village a little way back he had entered a bakeshop and purchased some rolls and a glass of milk, which he ate with a good relish. He resumed his walk, but had not gone a quarter of a mile when he heard the noise of wheels, which on coming up with him, came to a halt. “Shall I give you a lift?” said the driver of the team. Looking up, he saw that it was a covered wagon with four wheels, such as is often to be met in New England towns. The man who held the reins was of large frame and portly, with dark hair and whiskers. He might be about forty-five years of age. “Thank you, sir, said Harry. “Where are you bound, if you don’t mind my being inquisitive?” “I don’t know,” answered Harry, doubtfully. “I’m seeking my fortune, as they say.” “Well you ought to find it,” returned the other, after a deliberate survey of his young companion. “You’re well-built, and look healthy and strong. Have you got any money?” “A little. My father died lately and left me three hundred dollars. He recommended to me as guardian a man named John Fox, living eight miles back. Well, I have tried Mr. Fox, and I prefer to be my own guardian.” “I’ve heard of John Fox. He’s fox by name and fox by nature. So you and he didn’t hitch horses. When did you leave him?” “This morning. I don’t know but I may say that I am running away from him, as I left without his knowledge or permission, but as he is not yet my legal guardian, I don’t consider that he has any right to interfere with me.” “You haven’t told me your name yet.” “My name is Harry Vane.” “I am the Magician of Madagascar. You may have heard of me.” “I don’t think I have,” said Harry, puzzled. “I have been before the public many years,” he said. “I give magical entertainments, and, in the course of the last twenty years, have traveled all over the continent.” “You see,” explained Harry, apologetically, “I have always lived in a small country town, where there were few amusements, and so I know very little of such things. I never saw a magical entertainment in my life.” “Didn’t you, indeed? Then you shall see me perform to-night. I am to give a magical soiree in Conway, the town we are coming to.” “I should like it very much, Mr. ----” and Harry paused in doubt.