Ernest read the foregoing with mingled feelings. He knew that the writer was an outlaw, deeply stained with crime; but this letter showed him at his best. Paternal love softened the harsh outlines of his character, and spoke of a nature that might have made him a blessing instead of a curse to his kind. Ernest lost no time in communicating with Mr. Hardy. The lawyer read the letter in some surprise. "Mr. Fox seems to have appointed a young guardian for his son," he remarked. "Yes, sir; but he appeared to have no choice. It would have been better had he appointed you." "No; I do not care to assume that responsibility. I am ready to assist you, however." "I will depend upon you, then, for I shall start for California as soon as possible. Can you recommend a satisfactory boarding-school?" "I have a son at school in Lincoln. The school is under the charge of a clergyman, who is an efficient teacher, yet is popular with his pupils." "Can you arrange to enter Frank at his school?" "I will do so, if you authorize me." "I don't think we can do any better. Were you aware that Mr. Fox was the notorious outlaw?" asked Ernest, after a pause. "I did not know, but latterly I have suspected it. You may be surprised that under the circumstances I should have consented to serve him. But I felt that I might be of assistance to the boy, and that my refusal would occasion him embarrassment. Your letter is satisfactory, as showing that the fortune of your ward is not made up of ill-gotten gains. Were it otherwise, he would hardly be allowed to keep it. Does Frank know his father's character and reputation?" "I don't think so." "It had best be kept from him. I will see that it does not become known at school. It would wound the boy to be twitted with it by his schoolmates." Thanks to Mr. Hardy, Ernest found that the new charge imposed upon him would not materially interfere with his plans. A week later than he had originally intended he and Luke Robbins left Emmonsville by a Western-bound train. As they rushed rapidly over the prairies, Luke Robbins turned to his young companion and said, "Our journey thus far has been adventurous. I wonder what lies before us?" "We won't trouble ourselves on that score, Luke. I feel hopeful." "So do I; and yet we have less than two hundred dollars between us." "That's true." "Still, I have captured an outlaw, and you, at the age of sixteen, are the guardian of an outlaw's son." "I don't think we shall meet with anything stranger than that." Two days later, in a newspaper bought at an important station, there was an article that deeply interested both travellers. It related to the Fox brothers, recounting their daring attempt to escape from the jail where they were confined. John Fox got away, but James was shot dead by one of the prison guards. So Frank was an orphan, and Ernest felt that his responsibility was increased. CHAPTER XXIV. STEPHEN RAY AND HIS SON.