Ned Talmadge walked in the direction of his residence. Joe shoved off
from the tiny dock and struck out for his home. He did not dream of the
calamity that awaited him there.



CHAPTER III.


A HOME IN RUINS.


As Joe rowed toward his home on the mountain side, a good mile from
Riverside, he could not help but think of the two mysterious men and of
what they had said.

"They were certainly rascals," he mused. "And from their talk they
must have come from New York and are now going to try some game in
Philadelphia."

The hermit's boy was tired out by the day's outing, yet he pulled a
fairly quick stroke and it was not long before he reached the dock at
which he and Hiram Bodley were in the habit of leaving their boat. He
cleaned the craft out, hid the oars in the usual place, and then,
with his fishing lines in one hand and a good sized fish in the other,
started up the trail leading to the place that he called home.

"What a place to come to, alongside of the one Ned lives in," he said to
himself. "I suppose the Talmadges think this is a regular hovel. I
wish we could afford something better,--or at least live in town. It's