A Boy's Fortune

This was the question he asked himself. In great haste he went from one room to another, but all seemed to be occupied. It was only when he opened Ben's room that he ascertained that the one whom he would most regret to lose had decamped. Ben's bed, too, was but little disturbed. He had slept on the outside, if he had slept at all, but not within the bed, as was but too evident.

"Has any one seen the boy?" demanded M. Bourdon of an outdoor servant who slept outside, but was already on duty.

"Not I, Monsieur le Docteur."

"Then he must have escaped with Francois! Put my horse in the carriage at once."

Ten minutes later M. Bourdon was on his way to the cottage of Francois.

Fifteen minutes before he arrived Francois had aroused our young hero.

"It is time to get up, little monsieur," he said. "In half an hour the cars will start."

Refreshed by his sound sleep, Ben sprang up at once – he did not need to dress – and was ready for the adventures of the day.

"Where is the station, Francois?" he said.

"I will go with monsieur."

"No; if the doctor should come, delay him so that he cannot overtake me."

"Perhaps it is best."

Ben followed the directions of his humble friend, and soon brought up at the station. He purchased a third-class ticket for a place fifty miles away, and waited till it was time for the train to start.

Meanwhile M. Bourdon had driven up to the cottage of Francois.

The door was opened to him by Francois himself.

"Where is that boy? Did he come away with you?" he asked, abruptly.

"What boy?" asked Francois, vacantly.

"The one who came a few days since. You know who I mean."

Francois shrugged his shoulders.

"Is he gone?" he asked.

"Of course he is, fool."

Just then the wife of Francois came to the door. Unfortunately her husband had not warned her, nor did she know that Ben had been an inmate of the asylum.

"Where is the boy who came here last night with your husband?" asked M. Bourdon, abruptly.

"Gone to the station," answered the woman, unsuspiciously.

The doctor jumped into his carriage, and drove with speed to the station.

CHAPTER XXX.

M. Bourdon's Little Scheme

Meanwhile Ben had entered a third-class carriage – it behooved him to be economical now – and sat down. He was congratulating himself on his fortunate escape, when M. Bourdon dashed up to the station.

He entered the building, and was about passing to the platform, when he was stopped. "Your ticket, monsieur."

Just then came the signal for the train to start.

"Never mind the ticket!" shouted the doctor. "Don't stop me. One of my patients is running away."

"I can't help it," said the guard, imperturbably. "Monsieur cannot pass without a ticket."

"But I don't want to go anywhere," roared M. Bourdon. "I want to see the passengers."

To the railway attendant this seemed a very curious request. He began to think the doctor, with his excitable manner, was insane. At any rate, he was obliged to obey the rules.

"Go back and buy a ticket, monsieur," he said, unmoved.

"But I don't want to go anywhere," protested M. Bourdon.

"Then go back!" And the official, placing his hand on the doctor's sacred person, thrust him forcibly aside.

"Fool! Dolt!" screamed M. Bourdon, who could hear the train starting.

"You must be crazy!" said the guard, shrugging his shoulders.

It was too late now. The train had actually gone, and M. Bourdon turned back, foiled, humiliated and wrathful. He regretted bitterly now that he had not let Francois off the evening before, as in that case Ben would not have had a chance to escape. Now he must lose the generous sum which Major Grafton had agreed to pay for his ward. It was more than he received for any other of his patients, for M. Bourdon, recognizing Ben's sanity, shrewdly surmised that the guardian had some special design in having his ward locked up, and took advantage of it to increase the weekly sum which he charged.

And now all this was lost.

But no! A happy thought struck the worthy doctor. Ben had escaped, it is true, but why could not he go on charging for him just as before? His escape was not known to Major Grafton, and probably would not be discovered for a long time at least. The major was not very likely to visit the asylum, as an interview between him and his young victim would be rather embarrassing to him.

Yes, that was the course he would pursue. He would from time to time send in a report of his patient, and regularly collect his board, while he would be at no expense whatever for him. It was necessary, however, to take Francois into his confidence, and he drove back to the cottage of the humble attendant.

Francois was watching outside. He was afraid the doctor would succeed in capturing the boy, in whom he had begun to feel a strong interest. When he saw M. Bourdon drive up alone he smiled to himself, though his features remained outwardly grave.

"Did you find him, sir?" he asked, respectfully.

"No," answered M. Bourdon, roughly. "The train had just started."

"And was he a passenger?"

"Doubtless."

"What will you do, Monsieur le Docteur?" Francois asked, curiously.

"Francois," said M. Bourdon, suddenly, "I am sorry for you."