"Never mind; you see I do," interrupted Frank. "Now, then, you follow my advice. You get those two pieces of card together, and get that bracelet from the man who has it in safekeeping for you."
Brady's eyes goggled. The amount of information Frank had about him, its tremendous importance, staggered the man. He almost reeled where he stood.
"Send it at once to Samuel Mace at Tipton," went on Frank, "if you don't want to be hunted down across the world if necessary. Then get as far as you can from here. If you don't you're lost. Yes, sir," declared Frank impressively, "a lost man."
"Thunder!" ejected the tramp in an overwhelmed sort of a way.
"You'd ought to be ashamed, hunting down an honest boy like Ned Foreman, who is trying to make a man of himself," continued Frank indignantly. "You've nigh ruined his chances already. You want to leave him alone. Mean and low as you are, he is ashamed to tell the professor about it, but I'll tell him, you bet. Now, then, you get away from here, double-quick."
The tramp started up as if he had been struck by a whip.
"And stay away," added our hero.
"I'm an abused man," sniffled Brady, trying the pathetic tack again. "You're talking Greek to me about diamonds, and that such. Suppose I was a bad one once, ain't I a reformed man now?"
"No, nor never will be, until you tell what dodge you're up to in getting
Ned into your clutches again."
"Boy, you mistake a poor old reformed man," said Brady, drawing a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his screwed-up eyes. As he did this a lose pack of playing cards came out with the handkerchief and scattered all around the ground, much on his confusion and assumed surprise.