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"I think not," said Mrs. Bradshaw, decidedly.
"Then I am to consider myself your prisoner?"
"You may call it so if you like."
"It is just as well to call things by their right names. Of course Mr.
Campbell has hired you to detain me here. Tell me how much he is to pay you, and I will pay you more to release me."
"Then you are rich, I suppose?" said the woman.
"Yes, I am rich."
Mrs. Bradshaw laughed. "You are worth several millions, I suppose?" she said, mockingly.
"Certainly not. Who told you so?"
"Mr. Campbell warned me that you would pretend you were rich."
"It is no pretence; I am rich, though at present his father has the greater part of my fortune under his charge."
"Oh, of course!" said the woman, laughing again. "I understand all about it."
"What has Orton Campbell told you?" asked Florence, suspiciously.
"He said you would pretend to be rich, and try to bribe me, though you were only a poor relation of his who would have gone to the poorhouse unless his father had supported you out of charity."
"He has deceived you, Mrs. Bradshaw. His father wanted me to marry this man in order to keep my fortune in his own family. That is why I ran away from his house."
"What made you come to California?" asked the woman.
"Because the man whom I really loved was at work somewhere in the mines."
"Ho! ho!" laughed Mrs. Bradshaw, loudly.
"Why do you laugh?"
"Because you are as crazy as a loon. Mr. Campbell told me just what you would say. He told me all about your stealing money from his father's desk, and running off to California after a lover in the mines. It's turned out exactly as he said."
"Did he dare to slander me in that way?" demanded Florence, so indignantly that her jailer drew back in some alarm.
"No violence, miss, if you please," she said. "You'd better be quiet, or you'll have to be tied."
"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Florence, "I would not have believed Orton Campbell so false and artful!"
"He's acting for your good, miss. So you'd better not make a fuss;" and the landlady left the room, not failing to lock the door securely behind her.
CHAPTER XXVII.
A STAR IN THE CLOUD.
Meanwhile, though things looked dark for Florence and favorable for her persecutor, there was one circ.u.mstance that threatened failure to the latter's plans. Orton Campbell was a mean man, and his meanness in this instance worked against him. He had promised his confederate, Jones, a thousand dollars as the price of his information and co-operation, but intended all the while to avoid paying it if it were a possible thing.
Of this sum seven hundred dollars were still due, besides an extra sum for the services of Jones in making Florence a captive.
It was in regard to these sums that Jones called on Mr. Campbell on the evening succeeding the success of the plot.
Orton Campbell was about to go out when Jones appeared at his hotel.
"I would like to see you a few minutes, Mr. Orton," said the man respectfully.
"You must come some other time, Jones," said Campbell, carelessly; "I've got an engagement."
"I must see you now, sir," said Jones, still respectfully, but in a resolute tone.
"'Must'?" repeated Orton Campbell, arching his brows. "You are impertinent."
"Call me what you please," said Jones, doggedly; "I'm not to be put off."
"What do you mean?" demanded his employer, angrily.
"You know well enough. I want the money you are owing me."
"You seem to be in a hurry," said Campbell, with a sneer.
"You don't," retorted Jones. "All I ask is that you will keep your promise."
"What promise do you refer to?"
"'What promise do I refer to?' You said if I would join you in _kidnapping_--"
"Hus.h.!.+" said Orton looking around, apprehensive of listeners.
"The young lady," Jones continued, "you would pay me the seven hundred dollars you owed me, and two hundred dollars extra for my help."
Now, Orton Campbell knew very well that he had made this promise, but the payment of nine hundred dollars he dreaded as much as some of my readers would dread the extraction of half a dozen teeth. He had got all he needed from Jones, and he decided that it would be safe to throw him off. It might be dishonorable, but for that he cared little.
"I suppose you have my promise in writing, Jones?" he said, with a sneer.
"No, I haven't, Mr. Campbell."
"Then you can't prove that I owe you anything, I take it."
"You don't mean to say, Mr. Orton, you'd cheat a poor man out of his hard-earned money?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jones, who, in spite of his knowledge of his employer's character, could hardly believe his ears.
"I never intended to give you such an enormous sum for the little you have done for me."