Nelson The Newsboy

"They were works on poisons, written in French."

"Poisons!" Gertrude grew pale. "Oh, Nelson! and you think–" She could not go on.

"I don't know what to think, but if I were you I'd have the doctors examine everything that Mr. Horton takes, especially the stuff Homer Bulson gives him."

"I will do that. Mr. Bulson can no longer be trusted. He is a high liver, and may be very anxious to get hold of Uncle Mark's fortune in the near future."

"He said he wanted the books because he was going to become a doctor and make poisons a specialty. That is what he told Van Pelt."

"A doctor! I don't believe he has brains enough to become a doctor—or if he has, he is too lazy to apply himself. Why, when he was a boy he was turned out of school because he wouldn't study."

"Well, if he would lie and use you as he has, he would do worse, Gertrude. For your uncle's sake he ought to be watched."

"He shall be watched," said Gertrude decidedly. "No matter how badly Uncle Mark has treated me, I will see to it that Homer Bulson no longer plays him foul."

CHAPTER XXXI.

BULSON GROWS DESPERATE

Sam Pepper was taking it easy at the rear of his resort on the evening of the day when Gertrude went to Lakewood, when the door opened and a messenger boy came in.

"Is Sam Pepper here?" asked the boy, approaching Bolton.

"That's my handle, sonny. What do you want?"

"Here's a message. I was to wait for an answer."

Pepper took the message and read it with interest.

"Friend Pepper: Meet me to-night between eleven and twelve o'clock at my apartments. Something important. Bring those old papers with you. I have the cash.

    "H. B."

"Humph! so Bulson wants to close that deal to-night," muttered Sam Pepper, as he tore the message to shreds. "He's in a tremendous hurry, all at once. I wonder what's new in the wind? Well, I'm low on cash, and I might as well take him up now as later on."

"Where's the answer?" asked the messenger boy.

"Here you are," returned Pepper, and scribbled a reply on a slip of paper. Then the messenger received his pay and made off.

Promptly on time that night Sam Pepper went up Fifth Avenue. Just as he reached Homer Bulson's home the young man came down the steps.

"Come with me—the house is full of company," he said. "I want to talk to you where we will be free from interruption."

"I'm agreeable," answered Pepper.

The pair walked rapidly down a side street. Homer Bulson seemed ill at ease, and Pepper noticed it.

"You are not yourself to-night," he said.

"I've got lots to think about," growled Bulson.

"Still mad because the girl won't have you, I suppose."

"No, I've given her up. I don't want a wife that won't love me."

"That's where you are sensible."

"Gertrude can go her way and I'll go mine."

"Well, you'll have the softest snap of it," laughed Pepper. "She'll get nothing but hard knocks."

"That's her own fault."

"She don't make more than half a living, teaching the piano."

"Oh, if she gets too hard up, I'll send her some money," responded Bulson, trying to affect a careless manner.

"By your talk you must be pretty well fixed."

"I struck a little money yesterday, Pepper—that's why I sent to you. I want to go away to-morrow, and I wanted to clear up that—er—that little affair of the past before I left."

"What do you want?"

"I want all those papers you once showed me, and if you have that will I want that, too."

"You don't want much." And Sam Pepper laughed suggestively.

"Those papers will never do you any good."

"They might."

"I don't see how?"

"The boy might pay more for them than you'll pay."

"He? If he knew the truth, he'd have you arrested on the spot."

"Don't be so sure of that, Bulson. I know the lad better than you do. He has a tender heart—far more tender than you have."

"Well, if it's a question of price, how much do you want?" demanded Homer Bulson sourly.

"I want five thousand dollars cash."

"Five thousand! Pepper, have you gone crazy?"

"No; I'm as sane as you are."

"You ask a fortune."