The boy had taken a seat where he could watch the front door. In a short time a small man entered quietly, walked straight to a table, sat down, without glancing round, having hung his hat close at hand, and looked over the bill of fare. "You are the shadower," decided Frank. "I wonder how I can give you the slip?" CHAPTER XXXIX. PURSUED. Fortune gave the boy the opportunity he desired. Along the street came two runaway horses, attached to a carriage. In front of the restaurant they crashed into another team, and there was a rush to see how much damage had been done. The attention of every one seemed diverted toward the front. Frank had observed an open door at the back of the room, and through this he quickly sprang, ran along a narrow passage, and burst into the kitchen. "Hello, here!" cried the cook, in astonishment. "What's the matter?" "Terrible smashup, out in front," replied the boy. "Don't know how many have been killed. It is awful!" "That so?" came stupidly from the bewildered man in white. "How did it---- Well, he was in a hurry!" But Frank had sprung out by an open door and was gone. The boy reached a side street, sprinted round a corner, doubled and turned at every opportunity, and settled to a swift walk. He soon discovered which direction he should take without having asked to be directed toward any particular point. "This is an unpleasant scrape," muttered the boy; "and it came about through my readiness to exchange my good money for bad. If I remain in this town I am liable to be arrested at any moment." He wondered what Bart would say when he was told. What could Bart think about a girl who carried two bright new counterfeit fifty-dollar bills in her purse? Frank began to doubt. He was forced to confess to himself that such a thing was remarkable. If the girl had had but one bad bill in her possession, it would have seemed that she had obtained it unwittingly; but two--and exactly alike---- "Can it be possible she is, in some way, connected with a gang of counterfeiters?" Frank asked himself. "I will not believe it! Her face is too innocent." Then he remembered how, in the city of Chicago, he had encountered a beautiful girl who was connected with counterfeiters; but he also remembered that she was an unwilling tool, and had embraced the first opportunity to get clear of the meshes of the net into which she had fallen. "If Isa Isban is connected with such a gang, I am certain it is against her will." Then he thought how, when she had discovered that he had plenty of money, she had hastened to get him to change two fifty-dollar bills, and his faith was shaken. "It looks bad," he confessed. As he approached the place where he had left Bart on guard over the house in which the girl was believed to be, he passed a livery stable. He was hurrying on when some one ran out of the stable and clutched him by the arm. "Just in time!" palpitated the voice of Bart Hodge.