“I’ll never forget how he struck you once when your arm was broken,” said Marion, slowly. “He was not fit to be keeper of the Poor Farm—he ought to be in prison!” “Well, I’ll have to go back to him if they catch me,” muttered Bert, “and he’ll flog me every day for two years, I suppose. You know I was to stay there until I was eighteen—so much for being an orphan! Any one would think I was a criminal!” Marion’s mouth was curving in hard lines now, very much as it had curved when she was planning the search for her sister. She pondered intently a moment or two, then her sister knew by her voice that she had thought out a solution. “Is Matt here looking for you, Bert?” she asked, very softly. “I think so,” said the boy, “and I saw Silas Johnson here, too. One of the boys at the office said a man had been there looking for me. He described him accurately. I am sure it was Matt Jenkins.” “What did your employer do?” asked Marion again. Bert’s eyes snapped with pleasure as he drew a ten dollar bill from his pocket. “He gave me this and told me I’d be safer somewhere else,” he answered, smiling. “Oh, it was lucky I was out when Matt Jenkins called on him!” “He gave you good advice,” said Marion, “and I repeat it. Bert; you’d be safer somewhere else than in our room to-night, for Silas Johnson knows we live here, and he’s likely to come here. You must go away quick, but, where, is the question.” “I won’t leave New York!” said Bert, determinedly. “You won’t have to,” said Marion. “You can easily hide in this big city. You must change your name and go to some lodging house for the present, then you must look for another job while you have the ten dollars, and Dollie and I will find some way to come and see you.” “I know a place where I can go,” said Bert. “It’s way over to the East Side, and I can get room and board for three dollars.” “Then go quickly,” said Marion, “but leave the address, and remember your name is to be Bert Wilson.” “I’ll remember,” said Bert, grinning, as he scribbled the address. He started down the stairs saying good-by to the girls cheerily. In two minutes he was back, his eyes flashing with anger. “They are out there, Matt Jenkins and Sile,” he whispered, “and they are coming in here just as sure as shooting!” “Quick! Get into these, Bert!” cried Marion, sharply. She sprang to the door and turned the key, then began pulling some clothing out of a valise in the corner. “It’s the suit Miss Ray gave me the first night I met her,” she whispered. “The skirt is so long that it will hide your feet and I’ve got a thick veil that will conceal your features.” Bert pulled off his jacket as quick as a flash. In two minutes he was dressed in Miss Ray’s stylish garments. “They are down at the door talking to the landlady,” whispered Dollie, who was listening at the key-hole. “Oh, I am sure they are coming up. Is he ready, Marion?”