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"Oh Willium," she cried, "my heart is breakin'. Oh to think how I misjedged him!" "Why, yes, sir, course I do. But I never should ha' thought it. Why of all the young ladies——" "An' that's why you throwed it," exclaimed the admiring Maurice. "Gosh, nobody else would'a thought of that.".

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Of course that settled it. The delegation apologized, and Caleb tapped a keg of cider and opened a box of choice biscuits just to show that there were no hard feelings. Now this in itself was surely indisputable proof of the confidence his neighbors reposed in Caleb's veracity and honesty, but considering the fact that Caleb had once quarrelled with the elder Stanhope, later refusing all overtures of friendship from the latter, and had even gone so far as to cherish the same feeling of animosity toward the son, Frank, that trust was little short of sublime. For, providing Caleb disliked Frank Stanhope—and he did and made no attempt to hide it—what would be more natural than that he should keep him from his rightful inheritance if he could? Snug in Maurice's corn-husk bed in the attic, the boys lay and listened for the door to open and close. Then Maurice chuckled. "Where away?" yelled Captain Weaver from the side of the wheel. "He must be prosecuted before they can hang him," said Captain Acton, whilst the Admiral's regard was fastened upon Lucy's face with such tokens of affectionate gratitude and surprise which rose to a passion of delight as made the worthy, poor old man's jolly, weather-scored, truly British countenance moving to behold. "And who is to prosecute him? I alone am the sufferer. I alone can prosecute. Am I likely to do so? Am I the man to bring my friend's son to the gallows?".