"Tell me the rest of your story," I said, speaking softly, "as we go along. Where did Fagin take you?"
"To a sand cave; we rode a night and a day to get there."
"Treat you all right?"
"Well as he could, I suppose. I had enough to eat, but was guarded closely, and the fellows were a bit rough."
"Did you gain no inkling of what they were up to?"
"No; the men I saw knew nothing, or pretended not to. I only saw Fagin twice. Once he came to assure himself that I was really myself. Somebody told him I was with Delavan in a fight over near Lone Tree."
"That was your sister."
"What! You don't mean it was Claire?"
"But I do. I chanced to be in that affair myself, and saw her. Later she, with three others—Peter, an Indian, and an Irishman—captured me, mistaking me for some one else, and took me to Elmhurst. As soon as she learned my identity she acknowledged her error. But I have not learned yet why she was with Delavan, or for whom she mistook me."
The lad drew in his breath sharply, gripping me by the shoulder.