“He can’t cheat me out of much,” returned Harry, not especially reassured by this remark. “What is the business of Mr. Fox?” “Well, he’s got some land, but he makes his livin’ chiefly by tradin’ hosses, auctioneerin’, and such like.” “What sort of a woman is Mrs. Fox?” “She’s a good match for the old man. She’s about as mean as he is.” “Mr. Fox wrote me that he had two children.” “Yes, there’s Joel--he’s about your age. He’s a chip of the old block--red-headed and freckled, just like the old man. I don’t believe Joel ever spent a cent in his life. He hangs on to money as tight as ef his life depended on it.” “There’s a girl, too, isn’t there?” “Yes, Sally. She looks like her ma, except she’s red-headed like her pa.” “I’m glad to know something of the family, but I’m afraid I shan’t enjoy myself very much among the Foxes.” With such conversation Harry beguiled the way. On the whole, he enjoyed the ride. There were hills and here and there the road ran through the woods. He could hear the singing of birds, and, notwithstanding what he had heard he felt in good spirits. At length the stage entered the village of Colebrook. It was a village of moderate size--about two hundred houses being scattered over a tract half a mile square. Occupying a central position was the tavern, a square, two-story building, with a piazza in front, on which was congregated a number of villagers. After rapidly scanning them, the driver said: “Do you see that tall man over there leanin’ against a post?” “Yes.” “That’s your guardeen! That’s John Fox himself, as large as life, and just about as homely.” CHAPTER II THE DANGER SIGNAL The man pointed out to Harry as his guardian was tall, loosely put together, with a sharp, thin visage surrounded by a thicket of dull-red hair. He came forward as Harry jumped to the ground after descending from the elevated perch, and said: “I reckon this is Harry Vane?” “That is my name, sir.” “Glad to see you. Just take your traps, and come along with me. Mrs. Fox will have supper ready by the time we come.” Harry was not, on the whole, attracted by the appearance of his guardian. There was a crafty look about the eyes of Mr. Fox which seemed to make his name appropriate. He surveyed his young ward critically. “You’re pretty well grown,” he said. “Yes, sir.” “And look stout and strong.” “I believe I am both.” “My boy, Joel, is as tall as you, but not so hefty. He’s goin’ to be tall like me. He’s a sharp boy--Joel.” “By the way, you didn’t write how much property your father left.” “After the funeral bills are paid, I presume there’ll be only about three hundred dollars left.” Mr. Fox stopped short and whistled. “Father hadn’t much talent at making money,” said Harry, soberly. “I should say not. Why, that money won’t last you no time at all.” “I am old enough to work for a living. Isn’t there something I can find to do in Colebrook?”