LITMIR.BIZ

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be going to see a girl," and the senator's son looked at his chum quizzically.

      "No, it is not a girl. Now please don't ask me any more questions."

      "Just as you say, Dave," answered Roger, and then began to get ready to go to bed. He could not help but wonder what the business was, and why Dave was so secretive about it.

      In the morning Dave had to go through the same kind of a scene with Phil. The shipowner's son was as much mystified as Roger, and after Dave had departed, the pair walked into the warm gymnasium to talk the matter over.

      "Dave has something on his mind," said Roger. "I noticed it yesterday."

      "So did I, Roger. What is it, do you suppose?"

      "I don't know, excepting it may be about Merwell and Jasniff. He said it wasn't about those girls."

      "Do you think he is going to meet Merwell and Jasniff in Rockville?"

      "Possibly. I can't think of anything else."

      "If Dave got into trouble, I'd like to be on hand to help him."

      "So would I. But I guess Dave knows how to take care of himself." And then the subject was dropped, and the two students began to exercise with some Indian clubs.

      In the meantime, Dave was on his way to Rockville. As the road was clear of snow he used his bicycle, and soon covered the distance to the town. He passed along the river road to the sawmill, and then kept his eyes open for Mrs. Dunn's house.

      "This must be the place," he said to himself, as he reached a dilapidated residence, located in what had once been a fine flower garden, but which was now a tangle of rank bushes and weeds. The gate was off, and leaping from his wheel, he trundled his bicycle along the choked-up garden path to the front piazza. Then leaving his wheel against a tree, he mounted the steps and rang the old-fashioned turn bell.

      Dave had approached the house boldly, thinking that possibly somebody might be watching him from behind the blinds of the windows, all of which were closed. Yet he was on his guard, and in the lining of his overcoat he carried a stout stick, with which to defend himself should such a course be necessary.

      No one answered his first summons, and he rang the rusty bell a second time. Then the front door was opened, and Doctor Montgomery showed himself.

      "Ah, how do you do!" he said, with a bland smile. "Walk right in, Mr. Porter. I see you are on time."

      Dave hesitated for a moment, and then entered the broad hallway of the house. In front of him was a long flight of stairs leading to the second floor, and on either side were doors leading to the parlor and to a dining-room.

      "Mrs. Dunn isn't feeling very well, so I had to come to the door myself," explained Hooker Montgomery, smoothly. "She used to take some drug-store medicine and it did her no good. Now she is taking my remedies, and she will soon be herself." He said this so naturally that Dave was thrown a little off his guard. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Dunn was not at home, having gone away to visit a sister in Albany. It was because of her absence that the tricky doctor had invited Dave to come to the house. Had she been at home his schemes would have necessitated meeting Dave somewhere else.

      "Doctor, I haven't much time to spare, so I hope you will get at the bottom of what you want without delay," said Dave, after the door had been closed and locked by the physician. It was so dark in the hall he could hardly see.

      "I'll not take much of your time, sir,--not over half an hour at the most," was the reply from Hooker Montgomery. "But all of the documents and letters and photographs are in my room, on the second floor. Kindly come up there and look at them." And the man started up the stairs. Dave hesitated for a moment, wondering if it would be best to go up, and then followed.

      CHAPTER XXV

      IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY

      At the head of the stairs the doctor paused, and then opened a door leading to a back bedroom. The apartment had two windows, but the blinds were closed, what little light there was coming in through the turned-down slats.

      "I have to shut off a good deal of light on account of my eyes," explained the doctor, as he saw Dave glance at the blinds. "My eyes are very weak, and I am told that the sunlight is very bad for them."

      "I am sorry to hear that," answered Dave.

      He hardly knew what to say or how to act. His reception had not been what he had anticipated, and he could not imagine what was coming next.

      "Here are some of the documents I wish you to look over first--and then we'll talk business," said Hooker Montgomery, pointing to a mass of legal-looking papers lying on the bed. "You can take them to the window if you wish," and he sank down in a rocking-chair, as if tired out, and placed both hands over his eyes.

      Curious to know what the documents might contain of importance to him, Dave took some of them up and stepped close to one of the windows. The writing was poor, and it was hard to make out what had been written.

      His face was bent closely over one of the pages when of a sudden he felt some unusual movement behind him. He started to turn, but before he could do so, a big bag was thrown over his head and arms, and tied around his waist. At the same instant he was tackled around the legs, and his ankles were tied together.

      Of course he struggled, and for several minutes his would-be captors had all they could do to hold him. But he had been taken so completely off his guard that resistance proved useless. Soon a rope was passed around the bag and over his arms, and further struggling was out of the question.

      "Who are you?" he demanded, in a muffled tone, for inside of the bag it was all he could do to breathe. The covering was so heavy he could not see a thing.

      No answer was vouchsafed to his question. He was backed up against the bed, and made to sit down, and then he heard his captors leave the room, locking the door after them.

      Dave was both chagrined and angry--chagrined to think that he had been taken in so easily, and angry to think that he was a prisoner and at his captors' mercy.

      "This must be the work of Merwell and Jasniff," he thought. "They simply hired the doctor to get me here. There is nothing in the story of documents, letters, and photographs. What a fool I was to walk into the trap!"

      And then he wondered when his captors would return, and what they proposed to do with him.

      For fully a quarter of an hour Dave waited, straining his ears to catch every sound. From below came a murmur of voices, but what was said he could not learn. Once he thought he recognized Jasniff's rough tones, but he was not sure.

      Tired of sitting on the edge of the bed, Dave got up and tried to move around. Then he made the discovery that his ankles were tied to a rope that was secured to the bed, and that the latter was stationary.

      "I'm a prisoner, and no mistake," he reasoned, grimly. "I wonder how long they intend to keep me here?"

      The room was cold, and he was glad that he had his overcoat on. His cap had fallen off inside the bag, but his thick hair and the bag prevented his catching cold in the head.

      "Guess I'll wake them up a bit," he thought, and so commenced to stamp on the floor. Then he stamped louder, until he felt he must be knocking the plaster from the ceiling below. He was in the midst of the stamping when the door of the room was thrown open and somebody came in.

      "Stop that noise, or I'll knock you down!" said a sharp voice, and at the same instant a strong hand was placed on his shoulder, and he was given a vigorous shake.

      Dave was surprised, for the voice was not that of Doctor Montgomery, neither did it belong to Merwell nor Jasniff. Yet, in some way, the voice sounded familiar.

      "What are you going to do with

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