Not a sound save that of running followed the report, and it was apparent that the intruders were making the best time possible for their boat. The two boys followed them to the shore, and Budd again fired into the air as the light craft swiftly disappeared in the darkness--not, however, until there had been two or three quick flashes from the boat, followed by sharp reports, and some pistol-balls had whistled harmlessly above the lads' heads.
Hurrying back to the house, the boys made a careful examination of their rooms. In the bedroom and sitting-room nothing had been disturbed; and in the kitchen the broken window, the lighted lantern, and the partially-eaten food upon the table, were the only evidences of the robbers' visit.
Somewhat excited, and very watchful lest the intruders should return, the boys ate their long-delayed supper, and then entered the sitting-room. Budd sat down by the center-table and took up the Bible that had caused the robber Tom so much surprise. His face flushed greatly, and he seemed deeply moved by the emotions with which he was struggling. At length he said:
"Judd, you heard enough from Thomas Bagsley's lips to-night to prove he was the man I had declared him to be. You also heard him allude to my father. In justice to that father's memory, and also that you may know who I am and how I came to be here, I will now tell you what I have never before disclosed to a single person."
With these words Budd began a story which explained the mystery that had hung over him ever since he had appeared in that neighborhood, and revealed the tremendous burden that was weighing down his young life.
[CHAPTER X.--BUDD'S STORY.]
Said he, "My father's name is Henry Boyd, and my mother's, Mary Boyd, and my home until last March was in Boston, Mass. Father and mother had been brought up in the western part of that State, and were married there, but soon after my birth they removed to Boston, and father entered the store of N. B. Johnson, the wholesale dry goods dealer on Sumner Street."
"He's the man who has spent the last summer or two on Hope Island," interrupted Judd, "and the one Bagsley called old Johnson."
"Yes," assented Budd; "though I did not know, until he alluded to it to-night, that it was down this way that Mr. Johnson spent his summers.
"To go on with my story, however. Father slowly worked his way up from one position to another until he was Mr. Johnson's confidential clerk, and held that position until last fall. Of course his salary was a comfortable one, and we lived nicely out in the Roxbury suburbs. I was kept constantly in school, and as I seemed interested in my studies father determined that I should have a college education, and with that aim in view I last September entered the Boston Latin School.