“Yes, for my father. But I must not despair. That man, Manseur, has fled. I believe him to be the real murderer of James Conroyd. The trial comes off in two weeks. Dean, we must separate. You must go to Springfield at once. There is nothing but heroic measures left to us now. I must do alone what I can to aid my father. Failing, I shall appear in court on the day of the trial, tell my story, and hope to have some effect upon the decision of the jury.” “And me, Marcus?” “You must now think only of proving your own innocence and baffling the villains who have robbed and disgraced you,” and then, to Dean’s astonishment, Marcus told of Tim Downey’s latest scheme to secure money. He told Dean what he must do--go to the city and keep track of Tim, day and night, until he saw Colonel Darringford. At any moment that he thought propitious he was to have Tim arrested--if possible, when he got the money from Colonel Darringford. He was also to send officers to arrest Daley and the others at the cave. “Arrested, some one of them will confess the truth to save himself,” said Marcus confidently, “and circumstances will make your claims plausible.” “But I myself will be arrested!” “Never fear if you are. I will be on hand later to add my evidence to yours to convict these villains. You, at least, will come out triumphant.” “And you, Marcus?” “If I save you and my father, I don’t care if they send me back to the reform school for life!” cried Marcus doughtily. They walked on for over a mile. Dean told of the purse he had found. It contained nearly twenty dollars in silver. “We need it, and we won’t hesitate to use it,” said Marcus as they divided its contents. “Now then, Dean, you to the city, I to the quest of Manseur. Be wary, and act just at the right minute.” “I’ll try.” They passed some boys quarreling over some stolen pears in a field, ascended a hill, and at its summit Marcus said: “There’s your road to Springfield, I shall return to Portsmouth.” “Hold on!” exclaimed Dean as they were about to say adieu. “Look over yonder, Marcus!” “Hello! that boy is in trouble.” “I should say so!” “Shall we help him?” “I guess we had better.” At the edge of a cliff they discovered a strange and startling scene. Four boys had attempted to reach an eagle’s nest by lowering a rope over the ledge. They had lowered one of their number and he had just reached the nest when the mother bird came flying to the spot and attacked him. The boys above threw sticks and stones at the bird, and Dean and Marcus, reaching the spot, helped to draw the imperilled adventurer, badly frightened, to the top of the cliff. “Couldn’t hold on to the young eagle, the old one pecked at me so!” he said. “I guess you won’t try again, youngster,” laughed Dean. “Yes, I will. I saw something else down there.” “What was that?” “A lot of money.” “Nonsense!” “I tell you, I did.” “Money?” “Yes.” “Gold, you mean?” “No, greenbacks.” Marcus looked curious and incredulous.