"Come back when your business is over," said the merchant.

 

"I will," said Jasper.

 

He set out with one hundred and fifty dollars in his pocket for 132 S—— Street.

 

We will precede him.

 

It was a shabby house of two stories, with a wide front. It looked dilapidated and neglected, but except that it was in an unsavory neighborhood there was nothing to draw attention to it, or lead to the impression that it was the haunt of lawbreakers and desperate characters.

 

In a back room sat three men, one of whom we recognize as the kidnapper, Dick, alias² Mark Mortimer. Of the other two, one was under twenty-five, with a reckless, dare-devil look, as of one who would stop at little in his criminal schemes. He had more than once been engaged in burglary, but as yet had escaped detection.

 

The third was a stout³, square-built man, of middle age, with a heavy, brutal⁴ face, such as might belong to a prize-fighter. He, too, was a burglar, an accomplished⁵ counterfeiter⁶, a gambler, who supplemented luck by various swindling devices, in which he was an adept⁷. This man was known as Slippery Bill, while his young companion was Jack⁸, with a choice of last names.

 

The three men were playing a game of euchre, with a pack of greasy⁹ cards. The time was half-past eleven in the forenoon.

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