LITMIR.BIZ

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Roque! You speak as if I were not a free agent.”

      “You are not. You are insane, and you know it.”

      “I know why you want to make me out insane. You want to get possession of my property.”

      “It is unsafe in your hands. A lunatic isn’t fit to manage property.”

      “I am no lunatic, nor would you try to prove me so, if I were poor. Why did you pursue me?”

      “Because you are not fit to be at large.”

      “I am as sane as you are. Your unprincipled attempt to deprive me of my liberty shows that you ought to be locked up.”

      “Of course I may be wrong, but I am willing to abide by the verdict of experts. I have brought with me two distinguished physicians, who will examine you, and decide whether you are or are not in your right mind. Dr. Brown and Dr. Jones, will you kindly approach and give your opinion as to the condition of my unfortunate cousin?”

      The two doctors descended from the carriage and approached the piazza. They were dressed in shabby black, and eyed Penrose furtively. Brown was the first to speak.

      “Your cousin,” he said, “affords every indication of insanity. What say you, Dr. Jones?”

      “I fully agree with you,” replied Dr. Jones, in a nasal tone.

      “I see, gentlemen, you have got the whole thing cut and dried,” said William Penrose, in a tone of agitation. “These tools of yours have learned their part well. All they need is to look at me to pronounce me insane. Even a renowned doctor would hardly venture to come to so quick a decision merely from a momentary inspection.”

      “They have both been connected with establishments for the insane. I have called them as experts who cannot be deceived.”

      “What do you pay them for aiding and abetting you in this villainy?”

      By this time Mr. Wilson, the landlord, appeared upon the scene. He looked from one to the other in surprise.

      “What does all this mean?” he asked.

      “Merely that you have been harboring a lunatic,” said James Roque.

      “Who is a lunatic?”

      “William Penrose.”

      “I cannot believe it.”

      “It is hard to believe. Like all of his class he is very cunning. Why, should you keep him here, he might set fire to your house during the night.”

      “Is this true?” asked the landlord, who was a timid man.

      “It is a base lie!” exclaimed Penrose indignantly. “Don’t believe him. He wants to have me adjudged insane that he may get control of my property.”

      The landlord looked bewildered.

      “Is that true?” he repeated doubtfully.

      “No, it is a lie. My poor cousin has no property. He is dependent upon me. I am willing to pay his expenses in an asylum, and this is his return.”

      “Heaven give me patience!” ejaculated Penrose. “This black villain is lying in an infamous manner. He is himself a man of no means, and wants to get possession of my fortune.”

      “Dr. Brown, is this true?” asked James Roque, turning to his subservient tool.

      “No,” answered Brown, shaking his head.

      “The man doesn’t know me,” said Mr. Penrose in a tone of contempt. “I never saw him before.”

      “I used to go to school with him,” retorted Brown, unabashed.

      “I see you are determined to lie it out.”

      “I appeal to my distinguished brother, Dr. Jones.”

      “You are quite right, Dr. Brown. We both know Mr. Penrose.”

      “You will bear me out in my statement,” interposed Roque, “that he escaped from the asylum in Buffalo where I recently placed him?”

      “Certainly.”

      “I was never in an asylum!” said William Penrose.

      “Really, gentlemen – ” put in the landlord.

      “My dear sir, I will see that your bill is paid,” said James Roque, “but I depend upon you not to interfere with me, now that I have succeeded in overtaking my unfortunate cousin.”

      “Of course, if what you say is true – ”

      “Don’t these eminent physicians substantiate my statement?”

      “To be sure,” said the landlord, who was greatly influenced by the assurance that his bill would be paid.

      “I see you take a sensible view. William Penrose, you must go back with us.”

      “Never!” exclaimed Penrose vehemently.

      “You see his excitement. Can there be any clearer indication of insanity? Dr. Brown and Dr. Jones, give me your assistance, and we will secure my unfortunate cousin. Bring the cord from the carriage.”

      Dr. Brown produced a stout cord which the party had brought with them, and the precious trio approached their unfortunate victim.

      “Mr. Wilson,” exclaimed Penrose, “will you stand by and allow such an outrage to be enacted under your own roof?”

      “I think you had better go with your cousin,” said the landlord soothingly. “As you are crazy, it will be better for you.”

      “But I am not crazy.”

      “Undoubtedly the man is crazy,” broke in Mr. Snowdon. “I have had an interview with him in which he claimed to be a former pupil of mine, and told an absurd story of my being ridden on a rail.”

      “I see you are a sensible man,” said James Roque. “I might have known as much from your intelligent appearance.”

      “Moreover he has aided and abetted a pupil of mine to escape from my rightful authority.”

      “The case seems to be pretty clear,” said Roque, with a malicious smile. “Cousin Penrose, you may as well resign yourself to circumstances. You must go back with us. I trust you will not compel us to use force. Come, gentlemen, whatever is to be done must be done quickly.”

      “Stop a minute, gentlemen!” said the landlord. “You promised to pay my bill.”

      “I will do it as soon as my cousin is secured. You don’t want me to leave him here to burn down the house about your ears?”

      “No, no!” said the landlord hastily.

      “Come along, gentlemen!”

      The three closed in about William Penrose, and producing the cord were about to tie him when he called out in desperation, “Will no one save me from these villains?”

      “I will help you!” said Bernard, kicking Dr. Brown in the shins with such force that he dropped the cord, and yelled with pain.

      “And I, too!” added a new voice.

      All eyes were turned upon a long, wiry, loose-jointed man, an unmistakable Yankee, dressed as a Western miner, who had been sitting on the piazza, and had been an interested witness of what had been going on.

      CHAPTER VIII. THE CONSPIRATORS ARE FOILED

      Roque and the doctors loosened their hold of William Penrose when they heard the new voice. Then Roque in a supercilious tone said, “You had better attend to your business if you have any.”

      He clutched his cousin once more.

      “Let us lose no time,” he whispered to the doctors.

      “Look here!” said the miner, striding to the group, “you’re trying to kidnap an inoffensive man, and are going clear against the law. This is a free country, and it can’t be done.”

      “Sir,” said Roque, “this is an escaped lunatic, and I propose to carry

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