profoundly startled, almost shocked at the strange appearance of his
friend.

"That man is in there!" gasped Ned.

"In where?"

"The reception-room."

"What man do you mean?"

"Tim Brady."

"Oh!" uttered Frank, and a whole lot of light seemed to flood his mind in
an instant. "How do you know that?"

"President Elliott send word to me that a visitor wished to see me in the
reception-room. I just came down and looked in. That terrible man who calls
me his relative is in there talking to the president."

"What is he after?" asked Frank.

"Can't you see?" spoke Ned in a tone of great agitation and excitement. "He
has followed me clear here. He is going to drive me away from here, just as
he has driven me away from other places. I can't meet him--the cold chills
run all over me whenever my eyes light on him," and Ned shuddered.

"See here, Ned Foreman," said Frank, "you go right into that room. Brace
straight up to that miserable wretch, and defy him. Don't be a bit scared
at anything he may say to you. I'll do the rest."