Mark Mason's Victory

"Do you know his name?"

"He calls himself Rev. Mr. Buffington."

The watchman laughed grimly.

"Sorry to disturb you, reverend sir," he said, "but I shall be obliged to lock you in your room till morning."

Buffington shrugged his shoulders.

"All right!" he said. "I shall at any rate secure a good night's sleep."

The watchman did as he suggested. He shut the burglar in his room, and locked the door from the outside.

"Now," he said to Mark, "you can sleep undisturbed for the balance of the night."

CHAPTER XIX.

AT NIAGARA FALLS

Although Mark was inclined to pity any man deprived of his liberty, he felt pleased to think that Buffington's career was cut short for a time. There was little doubt that he would be imprisoned for a time more or less extended.

"How much better it would be for him," thought Mark, "if he had earned his living in some honest way!"

Stealing may seem an easy way of obtaining money, but the one who depends on it is likely to be brought up with a round term at last.

When Mark went down in the morning the clerk said to him, "So you had a little excitement in your room last night, the watchman tells me."

"Yes; I had a visitor, but fortunately he was caught without securing anything. He was about to take my pocketbook when I woke up. I was lucky, for I might have found myself unable to pay my bill here."

"We would have given you time. We can tell by your face that you are honest."

"Thank you. Has Buffington been taken from his room yet?"

"Buffington? I don't know any such name."

"That is what he gave me as his name."

"He is down on our books as Lawrence Perkins."

"He seems to have more than one name."

"He may have a dozen. Such gentry usually do. I will send you a couple of policemen and have him taken round to the station-house."

Two policemen were summoned and soon made their appearance. They went up-stairs, preceded by the clerk. He opened the door of the adventurer's room and entered.

"He isn't here!" he exclaimed in surprise, turning to the two officers.

"Not here?"

There was no need to ask how Perkins, or Buffington, whichever name he claimed, had escaped. He had made use of the fire-escape and had disappeared.

"He seems to have slept here," remarked one of the policeman, pointing to the bed.

"Yes."

"He must have escaped early this morning."

"I wonder I did not think of the fire-escape."

"He didn't call at the office and pay his bill, I suppose."

"No. He was probably in too great a hurry."

"If you will give us a description of him we can warn the public against him."

"I didn't notice him particularly. I have to deal with so many that I don't scrutinize any one closely, unless there seems to be especial reason for doing so. This boy," pointing to Mark, "saw him on the car, and can describe him to you."

Mark gave what information he could and then went to breakfast.

"I hope I shan't meet him again," he reflected. "I am not anxious to keep up the acquaintance."

About noon he took a train for Niagara Falls, and didn't leave it till he reached Suspension Bridge. He arrived too late to see the cataract, and proceeded at once to a modest hotel in the village where the price charged was two dollars per day.

He might have gone to the International Hotel, and would have been justified in doing so, but he thought it right to be careful of his employer's money. He looked over the book, half expecting to meet the name of Buffington or Perkins, but found neither.

"I hope I have seen my last of him," he said to himself.

He did not feel obliged to take any extra precautions, but slept peacefully and long. After breakfast he started out to see the Falls. He was resolved to see them thoroughly no matter how much time might be required in the process.

"I wish mother were here," he thought. "Some time if I can afford it I will bring her here."

This resolve gave him satisfaction, though there seemed little prospect of his soon being in a condition to carry out his wish.

Mark had no idea of meeting any one whom he knew. He was but a boy, and his acquaintance was limited. Already, however, it included three persons whom he would have been glad to be assured he would never meet again. One of these was Buffington, the other two were Hamilton Schuyler and Jack Minton, the nephew of old Mrs. Mack, who lived in the same tenement house in New York with his mother.

He supposed Jack to be in New York and therefore his surprise may be imagined when he heard a hoarse voice behind him saying, "Well, I'll be blowed, if it isn't the kid! How are you, kid?"

Mark did not suppose that he was referred to, but with natural curiosity he turned to observe the speaker.

He saw Jack Minton, rough and uncouth as when he last met him, advancing to meet him.

"You're about the last bloke as I expected to see here, kid," observed Jack, his face still betraying surprise. "What brought you here?"

"Business," answered Mark briefly.

"They don't send telegraph boys as far as this, do they?"

"Well, not often, but I was sent here, and I came."