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 It was then agreed between us that my trunk should remain there, my landlady to store it under the stairway, and when Burns called, as I knew he would, she was to admit that a certain gentleman named Brownell had been stopping there, but that he had paid his bill and left that morning.

Having made all arrangements, I then handed my landlady written authority to call on a certain firm in the city where I had been doing business and collect a balance due me, after which I retired for the night.

I was awakened at four o'clock on the following morning, and a few minutes later my friend came in his buggy and we were off. Arriving at the farm, I was introduced as Mr. Fleetwood, of Chicago, and in explanation of our unexpected visit, my friend informed his brother that I was in Boston on important business, and as I was an old friend of his and desired a little recreation, he thought I would enjoy a few days outing in the country. He told him at the same time to give me the best of everything to make me comfortable.

This farm life, which brought to mind the fond recollections of childhood days, was entirely to my liking and I made myself at home without much ado. At "milkin' time," I was always on hand, and while it is true that I took an active part in the operation, it is no less a fact that the consumption was greater than the production, so far as I was personally concerned.

We received the Boston papers daily, by rural delivery service, and I spent some little time in perusing the accounts of my escapade with brother Burns, as did also my host and the men about the farm, all of whom expressed a desire to meet the "nervy Westerner," as they put it, little thinking that "Brownell" himself was in their very midst.

On the morning of the third day, about nine o'clock, my friend, who had returned to the city after introducing me to his brother, came back to see how I was getting along, and incidentally to let me know how matters stood at the Hub. When he arrived, I noted immediately that his face bore a troubled look, and it was with much impatience that I awaited the opportunity for talking with him privately.

Seeking a secluded spot, he informed me that, sure enough, Burns had located my boarding house on the morning of the second day, and that he succeeded in getting my trunk, but that the landlady still had possession of my grip, which I had intended bringing with me, but which I had overlooked in my haste to leave the city. She also still held my check for $1022, which had been handed her as the balance due me by the firm with whom I transacted business in Boston.

My friend went on to inform me that the landlady had wilted under Burns' indomitable manner of persistent inquiry, and had given up the trunk, thinking that by doing so, he would not press her for further information. The landlady, so my friend said, expressed deep sorrow and regret because of what she had done, but stated that it was beyond her power to withstand Mr. Burns' inquisition, and as she thought I valued my grip more highly than the trunk, on account of the papers which it contained, she deemed it best to throw Burns oft' the scent in that way and relieve the agony.

Having listened to his story, I insisted on my friend returning to the city immediately and to exert every effort to obtain possession of my grip and the check.

"If you think," said I, "that Burns will stop short of getting everything, now that he has made this start, you are certainly mistaken in the man, and if my grip and check are permitted to remain there longer, they too will fall into his possession."

I explained to him that there was but one person, to my knowledge, who had ever succeeded in outdoing the wily detective in his effort to secure an unwilling confession, and that that person was none other than the well known Marie Ware of Oregon.

I also cautioned my friend as to the necessity of being very careful on his own account, as Burns would endeavor to connect my friends with my escape, and would be sure to prosecute anyone whom he suspected had aided me. Page 251