Clyde’s cheeks burned with resentment.  His heart was going like a trip-hammer.  Could it be possible that his uncle would lend himself to such a villainous scheme?  He could scarcely refrain from jumping through the window and denouncing the plotters to their very faces.

He did not have to wait long to discover his uncle’s sentiments.

“Sharp,” said Mr. Ellis, “you have a great head.  I do admire you, upon my word!  If I had one-half of your ability for villainy, I would have been rich long ago.”

“Thank you,” retorted the lawyer, coolly.  “But you can bet that I never used other people’s money to speculate with.”

“The less said about that the better,” replied the other.  “I shall pull out of this all right if I am given time.  But now to business.  How am I going to get those boys aboard?  They may suspect something.”

“Oh, well, if you haven’t got any inventive faculty at all, you had better quit, go down on your knees, ask your nephews’ pardon, and live happily ever after.  To tell you plainly, that is just what I would do.  But if you are dead set on getting rid of them, why, I am paid to give you advice, and here it is.  You have promised to show them the will to-morrow.  Tell them that it is necessary to go to New York to see it.  There you can take them to some office for a blind, and, while you are there, you can have a letter sent to you, or pretend to have, from an old friend who is going to Australia and wants you to see him off.  It will be the easiest thing in the world to ask the boys to accompany you, and, once aboard, you can lock them up, and there they are.”

“That’s the talk.  They shall be there,” exclaimed the delighted speculator.

“Only they won’t,” thought Clyde, from his perch in front of the window.

“Look here,” said Mr. Ellis, nervously.  “Since this thing has begun, I am suspicious of everything.  No one could have heard us, could they?”

“The door is shut, as you see,” replied the lawyer, “and I don’t think anybody saw us come up here.”

“The window is open,” suggested Mr. Ellis.

He got up from his chair and walked to the door.

Clyde saw him open it and leave it open, then turn to the window as if he meant to do the same thing with it.

The boy was in a trap.  It would never do to be caught there.  To think with him was to act.  He stepped over the balcony and hung from the floor by his hands.  There was no one on the sidewalk beneath, and, letting go, he dropped lightly to the ground, just as his uncle stepped out upon the balcony above.

He pulled himself into a shadow and stood motionless.

Mr. Ellis was apparently suspicions.  Perhaps he had heard something.  At all events, he looked down and up and in all directions without becoming any wiser for it.

The moment his head disappeared from sight, Clyde stole away.  He was hot with excitement and anger.