“Or for the money he meant to make out of you, some day,” replied the Judge. “When he stole you away, he thought he would be sure of a reward for sending you back again.” “Why didn’t he, then?” asked Bar. “Well, so far as I can understand it,” said the Judge, “too many of his own misdeeds were coming to light about that time, and he was compelled to remain in hiding till things had blown over a little. Of course he kept you with him and took some kind of care of you. It was all pure selfishness. He seems to be a very bad man.” “But ought I not to see him?” “Not now, I think. There is no danger but that we shall be able to find him any time we wish to. We will talk about it one of these days. All I want you to do now is to make a man of yourself as fast as you can. You’ve begun well, from all I can hear. Keep it up.” “I’ll try,” said Bar. “I think I’ve seen what some things lead to clearly enough.” “I should say you had,” was the lawyer’s very emphatic rejoinder. But, while matters were going ahead so very swimmingly in the great city, there were almost equally busy times in Ogleport. Val Manning found himself invited, that day, to a private conference with Dr. Dryer. Not for any misdeeds of his own, as he was very carefully assured, but to ascertain what he might know as to the sudden disappearance of his room-mate. “He did not tell me a word,” said Val, “except that a telegram from his counsel called him back to the city. He could not say when he would return.” “His counsel? He’s very young to have counsel. Do you mean Judge Danvers?” “I suppose so,” said Val. Bar Vernon was growing rapidly to the stature of a very large boy, in the mind of the Academy principal, but he had unwisely, though, perhaps, necessarily, admitted his ruling half to that conference, and Mrs. Dryer broke in with: “All an excuse, Dr. Dryer. I’m astonished that you allow yourself to be hoodwinked in that way.” “Dorothy Jane!” “Don’t speak to me!” she exclaimed. “Who was it found out all about the bell business? It’s your duty to write at once to Dr. Manning.” “Yes,” said Val, quietly. “I should be glad to have you do that.” But Mrs. Dryer had a good deal more to say, and she said it without missing a word, in spite of the Doctor’s frequent attempts to interject ideas of his own. At last, however, Val was released, to find Zebedee Fuller waiting for him at the gate, while Dr. Dryer was retained a close prisoner in his study until he had actually written that letter to Bar Vernon’s “Guardian.” “I don’t see what more we can do about it,” said Zeb, as he and Val walked off towards the Academy, for it was at the noon recess. “The bell business has gone all to pieces.” “I’m half sorry for that,” said Val. “It looks as if it would all have to come out one of these days.”