“This way, then.  I—­ I trust you will keep this—­ this little meeting of ours a secret.”

“Why should I?”

“Because it—­ it would do no good to have it made public.”

“I’ll see about it,” was my reply.

By this time we had reached the front door, and with unwilling hands the merchant opened it.

“Now stand aside and let me pass,” I commanded.

“I will.  But, Strong—­”

“No more words are needed,” I returned.  “I have had enough of you, Mr. Aaron Woodward.  The next time you hear from me it will be in quite a different shape.”

“What do you mean?” he cried, in sudden alarm.

“You will find out soon enough.  In the meantime let me return your fancy knife.  I have no further use for it.”

I tossed the article over.  He looked at it and then at me.  Clearly he was mad enough to “chew me up.”  Bidding him a mocking good night, I ran down the steps and hurried away.

CHAPTER XX

 At the prison

Mr. Woodward’s actions had aroused me as I had never been aroused before.  My eyes were wide open at last.  I realized that if I ever expected to gain our family rights I must fight for them—­ and fight unflinchingly to the bitter end.

It was nearly ten o’clock when I reached the Widow Canby’s house.  I met my Uncle Enos on the porch.  He had grown impatient, and was about to start for Darbyville in search of me.

In the dining room I told my story.  All laughed heartily at the ruse I had played upon the merchant, but were indignant at the treatment I had received.

“Wish I’d been with you,” remarked my uncle, with a vigorous shake of his head.  “I’d a-smashed in his figurehead, keelhaul me if I wouldn’t!”

“What do you intend to do now?” asked Kate.

“Let’s see; to-day is Friday.  If you will take us to Trenton to-morrow, Uncle Enos, I’ll start for Chicago on Monday.”

“Don’t you think you had better have this Woodward arrested first?” asked Captain Enos.

“No; I would rather let him think that for the present I had dropped the whole matter.  It may throw him off his guard and enable me to pick up more clews against him.”

“That’s an idea.  Roger, you’ve got a level head on your shoulders, and we can’t do any better than follow your advice,” returned my uncle.

I did but little sleeping that night.  For a long time I lay awake thinking over my future actions.  Then when I did fall into a doze my rest was broken by dreams of the fire at the tool house and Mr. Woodward’s attack.

I was up at five o’clock in the morning, attending to the regular chores.  I did not know who would do them during my absence, and as soon as the widow appeared I spoke to her on the subject.

“Your uncle mentioned the matter last night,” said Mrs. Canby.  “He said he would do all that was required until you came back.  He doesn’t want to remain idle all day, and thought the work would just suit him.”