Mark Manning's Mission

"You are a worthless scoundrel," said the hermit bitterly.

"Look here, old man," said his nephew fiercely, "I didn't come here to be insulted and called bad names. Considering that you are alone and in my power, it is a little impertinent in you to talk in that way. I might kill you."

"You are quite capable of it," said Anthony. "Do so, if you choose. Life is not a possession that I greatly prize."

"I have a great mind to take you at your word," said Taylor coolly, "but it wouldn't suit my purpose. Your death would do me no good unless you have made me your heir. I am desperately in need of money."

"Work for it, then!"

"Thank you! You are very kind; but employers are rather shy of me. I have no recommendations to offer. I don't mind telling you that I have spent the last four years in prison."

"A very suitable place for you," said the old man in a caustic tone.

"Thank you again! You are complimentary."

"This is the reason why you have not found me out before?"

"Precisely. You don't suppose I would otherwise have kept away from you so long, my most affectionate uncle!"

"Do you recall the circumstances of our last parting? I awoke in California to find myself robbed of the large sum of money I had with me. Of course, you took it."

"I don't mind owning that I did. But I haven't a cent of it left."

"That I can easily believe. Why have you sought me out?"

"I want more money."

"So I supposed. You can judge from my way of living whether I am likely to have any for you."

"You don't appear to be living in luxury. However, it costs something to keep body and soul together even in this den. Of course, you have some money. However little it is, I want it."

"Then you will be disappointed."

"Where do you keep your money?" demanded Lyman Taylor, roughly.

"Even if I had any. I wouldn't tell you!" said the brave old man.

"Look here, old man, no trifling! Either you will find some money for me, or I will choke you?"

He got down on one knee and stooped menacingly over the hermit.

At that moment Mark Manning, who had returned from his errand, reached the doorway, and stood a surprised and indignant witness of this exciting scene.

Old Anthony struggled, but ineffectually in the grasp of the ruffian who had attacked him. Even if he had not been disabled by disease he would not have been a match for Lyman Taylor, who was at least twenty-five years younger.

"Don't touch me, you scoundrel!" said Anthony, whose spirit exceeded his bodily strength.

"Then tell me where you keep your money!"

"That I will not do!"

"Then I'll see if I can't find a way to make you."

As he spoke the young man grabbed the hermit by the throat. He concluded too hastily that old Anthony was in his power. He was destined to a surprise.

"Let the old man alone!" cried Mark, indignantly.

Lyman Taylor looked up in surprise and some alarm. But when he saw that the words proceeded from a boy, he laughed derisively.

"Mind your own business, you young bantam, or I'll wring your neck!" he said contemptuously. "Now, let me know where you keep your money," he said, turning once more to the old man, and preparing to choke him into an avowal of his secret.

"Let go, instantly, or I will shoot!" exclaimed Mark, now thoroughly aroused.

Once more the ruffian turned, and this time his countenance changed, for Mark, boyish but resolute, had dropped his bundles, and had the musket pointed directly at him.

Taylor rose to his feet suddenly.

"Take care, there!" he said, nervously. "Put down that gun!"

"Then leave old Anthony alone!" returned Mark, resolutely.

"Are you my uncle's guardian?" demanded Lyman, with a sneer.

"If he is your uncle, the more shame to you to treat him brutally!"

"I didn't come here to be lectured by a boy," said Taylor, angrily. "Put down that gun!"

CHAPTER IV.

THE HERMIT EXPLAINS

Mark did not obey directly, but turning to the hermit said, "Do you want this man to leave the cabin?"

"Yes," answered the old man, "but beware of him! He is all that is bad!"

"A pretty recommendation to come from your uncle," said Taylor, sullenly. "Uncle Anthony, I ask you once more to give me money. I am penniless, and am a desperate man."

"There is no money in this cabin, and you would search for it in vain, but if you will promise to leave this place and trouble me no more, I will provide you with five dollars."

"What are five dollars?"

"All that you will get. Do you make the promise?"

"Well, yes—"

"Mark, you may give this man five dollars on my account."

"Is he your treasurer!" inquired Taylor, in surprise.