"Then perhaps he thought it too lively around here," laughed Reade, "and went over to Blixton to sleep at the hotel." Mr. Bascomb didn't reply to this, but puffed hard at the black cigar he was smoking and sending up clouds of smoke. But the president of the Melliston Company became instantly more distracted when Tom Reade began an account of the capture of Evarts, and his jailing, and the escape of Mr. Sambo Ebony. Presently Bascomb began to puff harder than ever at his cigar. "Reade," he finally blurted out, "how long were you hiding there before Evarts found you there?" "Some little time," Tom admitted vaguely. More clouds of cigar smoke ascended; then, shaking, and his face a sickly white and green, the president inquired: "Reade, were you there---you and Mr. Prescott---at the time when I talked with Evarts on that very spot to-night?" There was no use in evading the question, so engineer Reade answered in a straightforward manner: "Yes, sir. Mr. Prescott and I were there." "Then---then---y-y-you heard all of my talk with Evarts?" "Yes, sir." Bascomb's teeth began to chatter so that he was forced to steady his jaws. Tom and Dick looked aside, pitying the man for his evident anguish of mind. At last the president steadied himself enough to speak. "Reade, I know I haven't been a very good friend of yours, and I even tried to work you out of this contract altogether. Now, you know my secret, and I'm in your power!" CHAPTER XXIII EBONY SAYS "THUMBS UP" Tom Reade stared in frank amazement at the trembling man. "Do you mean to insult me, Mr. Bascomb?" demanded the young engineer bluntly. "Insult you? The fates forbid," replied Bascomb with a sickly grin. "Reade, I don't dare offend you in any way." "But you do insult me, sir, in believing that it would be possible for me to make any hostile use of whatever unpleasant knowledge I may possess against you." "Do you mean to say that you wouldn't use the knowledge?" demanded the president of the Melliston Company. "You're insulting me again, sir. Perhaps you are to be pardoned, Mr. Bascomb. You have been so long dancing to the fiddling of an Evarts that you don't realize how impossible it is for a gentleman to do a dishonorable thing." "Then---then I---I can rely upon your silence?" demanded Mr. Bascomb, eagerly. "I am sorry, sir, to think that you even think it necessary to ask me such a question," rejoined Reade gravely. "Reade! Reade! You can't imagine how grateful you'll find me if I really can rely upon you to forget what you overheard to-night!" cried the humiliated man. "And you, Mr. Prescott---may I depend upon you, also, to preserve silence?"