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"All right. Give me a guess, will you?"
"For certain."
"You're taking -- me to see a man for five minutes, you said?"
"Yes, that's so."
"I'll bet you I know his name."
"Well, what is it?"
"Tim Brady."
"You've hit it wrong, youngster," declared the man Dan in apparent good faith; "it's not Tim Brady."
Chapter XXI
A Queer Experience
Frank was a little surprised at the definite announcement of the man Dan. The latter seemed to be telling the truth.
"If it's not Brady, who is behind this business?" began Frank.
"I didn't say that," retorted Dan.
"Why -- -- "
"I said that it wasn't Brady you were going to meet."
"Oh!" uttered Frank vaguely.
"If you hadn't acted so sensible and handsomely," proceeded Dan, "I wouldn't talk with you at all. You've got me sort of chummy, though. I like you. I don't suppose there's any harm in telling you that it's a lawyer you're going to see. He'll explain the business to you."
"What is the business?" persisted Frank.
"Bless me if I know," declared Dan. "We were to do something -- get you. We were to take you somewhere -- we do it. After that we're paid off, and that's our end of it."
Frank did some thinking and surmising; but he could only theorize. He saw that now he was in the mix-up he must see it through.
How far they traveled in the next eight hours he could only guess at. The vehicle had two horses attached; they were pretty good travelers, and the road was a smooth and level one and in excellent condition.
A little after dark the team halted, and Jem went to some place near by and bought some doughnuts. He gave them to Dan, who divided up with Frank. Then Frank went to sleep, awoke, and went to sleep again on the heap of blankets in the bottom of the wagon, to be aroused by Dan shaking his arm vigorously and saying:
"Wake up, youngster."
"What time is it?" inquired Frank.
"Just struck midnight by the village clock," Dan informed him.
"What village?" asked Frank.
"You're not to know that, youngster," responded Dan with a chuckle, as though he considered the prisoner a pretty keen lad. "You'll have to put on this headgear again," and Frank did not demur as the bag was drawn over his head.
Then our hero was lifted out of the wagon, and Jem took hold of one hand and Dan of the other, and he was led across a yard, up a pair of outside stairs, along a porch, and then there was a pause. Jem knocked at a door. There was some delay, and then the door was opened.
"We're the men from Brady," said Jem.
"Pretty outlandish hour to disturb a man," snapped a sharp and domineering voice in return.
"Acting on orders, judge," said Jem.
"This is the lad, is it?"
"It's him, judge," answered Jem, and they entered some kind of a room.
Frank was pushed down into a chair. Then Dan removed the bag from his head. Frank looked about him with a good deal of curiosity.
He found himself in a room that he decided must be a lawyer's office. It had cases full of law books. On a table stood a shaded lamp, and beside it was the man who had admitted them.
This was a wiry, shrewd-looking individual, whose hair was all touseled and who was only partially dressed, as if he had been aroused from sleep. He moved to a chair and drew toward him a little package of documents with a rubber band around it.
"This is the lad Foreman, is it?" he demanded.
"It's him, judge," declared Jem.
"Very good. Young man, I am acting for a client. Understand one thing. You appear before me voluntarily. If at any future time any -- er -- misunderstanding, complications arise out of this extraordinary midnight -- er -- invasion, I simply act as attorney for my client. Here's a document. It is to be signed by you. In consideration of the same, at a later date, my client is to remit to some school or other the money to pay for your schooling four years in advance."
"Don't say a word but 'uh-huh,'" whispered Dan quickly to Frank. "You'll be glad if you do it. It's all right."
"Uh-huh," said Frank obediently, but thinking somethings that would have startled the men with him if they had guessed them.
"Ipse dixit, de facto, as we say in the law," proceeded the judge pompously. "That's all, I think."
The speaker dipped a pen in ink. He set before Frank a two-paged document. Its first page was turned over. Its second page our hero was not given time to read, but Frank's keen glance took in words and phrases that plainly indicated to him that the document alluded to a guardianship of some kind.
Frank signed a name that was no name at all. It was a meaningless scrawl. He believed it would bring about a crisis, but he was now ready for just that. The document was drawn from his hand, but before the judge could look at it there was a ring at a telephone at the end of the room. The judge hastily thrust the document into a drawer and hastened to the telephone.
He spoke to somebody over the phone and nodded to Jem, and said:
"It's Brady."
"No need of us waiting," responded Jem. "Here's my half of that card, judge. I suppose you know the arrangement."
For reply the judge walked to a safe standing in the corner of the room, opened it, took out a little box and handed it to Jem.