“I meant any girl like that, if she belonged to our spear, Miss Ellen. Of course, there are women as high as the stars. Having a sample before me, I can say that, and defy contradiction. “The girl is awful proud of her family; poor but honest, you know,” said Ellen, once more mollified to the business point. “Honest! My eyes! that is good! Why, Boyce was just telling me that the boy has been robbing like sixty—hand in hand with a lot of burglars. It’s a secret; but the detectives are on his track now.” CHAPTER. L. A BARGAIN AT LAST. “You don’t say so! Oh, Mr. Mahone, this is news! Why, just as like as not, she’s leagued in with him. That whole family may be a nest of thieves.” “A nest of thieves—and she among them, I shouldn’t wonder!” “Prove it; fasten it upon them; have the thing made public, and our work is done.” “_Would_ that be enough?” “Certainly. Could any girl creep out of a nest of thieves, into such society as the madam and Miss Spicer move in? I should think not.” “Would it be enough to prove the boy guilty?” questioned Robert, thoughtfully. “No: she will want more than that.” “And even there we may fail. I have it—I have it! Don’t put yourself to any more trouble. The whole thing has come into my head at once. I only hope you are as sure of the money, as I am of earning it. Five thousand you said?” “Five thousand!” “Money down?” “Money down!” “But the division. We may as well start fair, you know, this being business and nothing else.” Ellen Post looked down, and began to roll up her cap-string with both hands; then she unrolled it, and smoothed out the ribbon. Something was doubtless in her mind, that she did not know how to put into speech. At last she faltered out, “Would there be any need of a division? I thought—I thought, perhaps, that you might prefer the whole, which is a fortune for two young persons just starting life in a liquor store, say, or a first-class boarding-house, where a real lady is wanted for the head of the table.” “Oh!” Ellen looked up anxiously. What did that emphatic “oh” mean. Had Mahone only thought of this for the first time? The face she cast her timid eyes upon was changing rapidly; first, a red flame darted up to the roots of his ruddy hair, then the color melted away, and a slow pallor stole over it, while a thoughtful and sinister light crept into the golden-green eyes. Ellen grew fearfully uneasy. The thousands she coveted would lose half their value, unless Mahone himself was counted in. “You say ‘oh,’ as if I had hinted at something disagreeable, Mr. Mahone? If so, let us drop the subject. Other people can be found.” Mahone started, for the girl spoke in bitter earnest. “Other people, my dear?” “Miss Post, if you please.” “Don’t be so cold, so cruel! If I said ‘oh,’ it was because a prospect of happiness broke upon me, that took away my breath.”