There was something in this remark, also, that made Philip wince.

"Where will Harry Gilbert be tried?" asked Philip.

"Before Squire Davis. I directed the constable to carry him round there at nine o'clock this morning."

"May I go, too?"

"Yes; your testimony will be needed to show that the boy was prowling around our house on the evening in question."

"Very well," answered Philip, with satisfaction. "I'll go along with you."

"Do so, my son."

As it was not yet time to go to the office of the justice, Philip stepped out into the yard, where Tom Calder, the stable boy, was washing a carriage.

"I guess I'll tell him the news," thought Philip. "Tom," he said, "we've discovered who stole the bonds the other night."

"Have you?" asked Tom, with a queer smile.

"Yes. Would you like to know who it is?"

"Uncommon."

"It's Harry Gilbert."

Tom Calder pursed up his lips in genuine amazement, and emitted a shrill whistle.

"You don't say!" he exclaimed.

"Yes," said Philip, complacently. "The governor had the house searched—Widow Gilbert's, of course—and he found the bonds there."

"That beats all I ever heard!" ejaculated Tom.

"Oh, it doesn't surprise me at all!" said Philip, carelessly. "I've long suspected Harry Gilbert of being dishonest."

"I don't believe it, for my part," said Tom, manfully standing by a boy who, on more than one occasion, had done him a favor. "Harry Gilbert is as honest a boy as there is in town."

"Your opinion isn't of much importance," said Philip, in a tone of superiority, "and it won't save the Gilbert boy from going to State's prison."

"Do you mean to say the one who took the bonds will have to go to State's prison?"

"Yes; that's what father says, and he knows a good deal about the law."

"Maybe he'll change his mind," said Tom Calder, in a peculiar tone. "When is the trial coming off?"

"This morning, at nine o'clock, at the office of Squire Davis."

Tom nodded his head thoughtfully, but only said:

"Are you going to be there?"

"Yes."

"What time is it now?"

"Quarter past eight."

"Somebody else will be there," said Tom to himself; and Philip left him and went back into the house.



CHAPTER XLI

HARRY MANAGES HIS OWN CASE

Trial Justice Davis sat in his office. He was a man of sixty, with a keen but not unbenevolent face, looking all the more sagacious, perhaps, because of a pair of gold spectacles which surmounted his nose. He had been apprised of the trial at which he was expected to preside, and he looked surprised and regretful.

"I can't believe that boy is guilty," he said to himself. "I have always looked upon him as one of the best boys in town."

At nine, the principal parties concerned entered the office. First, Colonel Ross and Philip walked in—Philip with an attempt to be at ease, but with a perceptibly nervous air, notwithstanding.

Harry Gilbert entered, walking beside the constable. Behind him followed his mother and Uncle Obed. Mrs. Gilbert looked anxious, though the constable assured her that there was no need of it, and that Harry would be triumphantly acquitted. Harry did not look in the least frightened, but seemed much more at ease than Philip.

A trial before a police justice in a country town is much more informal than in a city, and this should be remembered by those who read this chapter.

"What charge do you bring against Harry Gilbert, Colonel?" asked the justice.

"I charge him with entering my house on the evening of the nineteenth instant, opening the small trunk in which I keep my valuable papers and securities, and abstracting therefrom two United States Government bonds, of the par value of a hundred dollars each."

"You hear the charge, Harry," said the justice. "Are you guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty," answered Harry, in clear, ringing accents, surveying the Colonel proudly.

"You ought to have some one to defend you," said the justice.

"I will defend myself," said Harry, resolutely.

"Very well. Colonel Ross, I will hear your testimony."

The Colonel, being sworn, testified that he had missed the bonds on the morning afterward, and had been led, by what his son told him, to suspect Harry Gilbert. He had gone to the cottage, and found the bonds. He was about to rehearse Philip's information, but the justice stopped him, and said he would hear Philip in person.

"Have you any question to ask the witness?" asked the justice of Harry.

"Can I reserve my questions?" asked Harry.

"Yes; if you desire it."

Philip was next sworn. He testified that, on the evening in question, he had seen Harry prowling round the house, just before going up to bed.

"How did you happen to sit up so late?" asked Harry.

"That's my affair," replied Philip, haughtily.

"Answer!" thundered the justice, angrily. "No insolence here, sir!"

"I was reading," said Philip, frightened.

"Did you go into the room where the trunk was?" asked Harry, in his capacity as lawyer.

"Ye-es."

"Did you open the trunk?"

"No," answered Philip, nervously.

"I protest against the prisoner's insolence to my son," exclaimed Colonel Ross, angrily.

"It is a question he has a right to ask," said the justice, calmly.

"Did you see the keys which your father left on his desk?" asked Harry.

"No," answered Philip, ill at ease.

"I should now like to question Colonel Ross," said Harry.

The Colonel, with a curl of the lip, took the stand again.

"Really," he said, "it looks as if my son and I were on trial instead of the prisoner."

"Colonel Ross, you must be aware that I am according Harry no unusual privileges. It is as a lawyer—his own advocate—that he questions you."

"Go on," said the Colonel, haughtily.

"Colonel Ross," continued Harry, "do you generally keep a list of the numbers on your bonds?"

"Of course!"

"Can you furnish the numbers of the bonds that were taken from you?"

"I can give the numbers of the whole ten bonds. I don't know which were taken. I have not compared my list with those that remain."

"Have you the numbers with you?"

"Yes, I have them in my notebook."

"Will you be kind enough to repeat them so that the court may take them down?"

"Certainly! though I don't see what good that will do."

"It is of material importance," said the justice, nodding approval.

Colonel Ross drew from his inside coat pocket a large wallet, and, opening it, took out a memorandum, from which he read as follows:

"The numbers run from 17,810 to 17,817, inclusive."

"Then the stolen bonds are somewhere between those numbers?" said Harry.

"Of course."

Harry turned to the constable.

"Mr. Rogers," he said, "have you the bonds which were found at our house?"

"Yes," answered the constable.

"Will you hand them to Squire Davis, and ask him to read off the numbers?"

"You will do as Harry requests you," said the justice.

The constable placed the envelope in his hands, and Justice Davis, opening it, drew out three bonds.

"I find two one-hundred-dollar bonds," he said, "and one fifty-dollar bond."

"The two hundred-dollar bonds are mine," said Colonel Ross.

"That is, you claim them," said the justice, cautiously. "I will read the numbers.

"This one," he proceeded, unfolding one, "is numbered 9,867, and the other"—after a pause—"11,402. It strikes me, Colonel Ross, that you will have to look further for your bonds."

If such a dignified-looking man as Colonel Ross could look foolish, the Colonel looked so at that moment. He realized that he had made a ridiculous exhibition of himself, and he felt mortified to think that he had been so careless as not to have thought of comparing the numbers of the bonds the moment he had discovered them in Harry Gilbert's possession.

"Harry Gilbert is honorably discharged, and the bonds are restored to him," said the justice.

"Thank you, sir," said Harry, glancing not without natural exultation, at Colonel Ross and Philip.

Philip, by the way, looked as uncomfortable as his father.

Here there was an unexpected and startling interruption.

"I can tell Colonel Ross all about it!" said a distinct voice from near the door.

"Come forward then and give your information," said the justice.

This call was answered by Tom Calder, who elbowed his way to the front, dressed in his farm attire, and in his shirt sleeves.

Philip's face might have been observed to grow pale when he heard Tom's voice, and he looked decidedly sick when the boy walked up to give his testimony. Unobserved by any one, for all eyes were fixed upon Tom, he edged to the door, and slipped out, in an agony of apprehension, for he foresaw what was coming.

"Proceed," said the justice.

"That night when the Colonel missed the bonds," began Tom, "I was coming home some time after nine, when I happened to look into the window, and there I saw Phil Ross with his father's little trunk open before him. I saw him take out a couple of bonds, and slip them into his inside pocket. Then he carefully locked the trunk again, laid the keys on the desk, and left the room. That's all I saw."

"It's a falsehood!" ejaculated Colonel Ross, furiously.

"You just ask Phil about it, Colonel," said Tom, composedly.

Colonel Ross looked around for Philip, but no Philip was to be seen.

"I seed him slip out of the door just as Tom was beginnin' to talk," said a small urchin.

Overcome with mortification, and compelled to suspect that Tom's story was true, Colonel Ross hurried home, where he found Philip.

Sternly calling him to account, the Colonel extorted a confession, not only that he had taken the bonds, but what had become of them. The result was that information was sent to the police of New York, and James Congreve was arrested.

I may as well finish this part of the story by saying that Congreve was compelled to give up what remained of his ill-gotten gains, but Colonel Ross failed to prosecute him, because he could not do so without involving his own son also. It was only two months, however, before Congreve was detected in a more serious affair, for which he was forced to stand trial, and is even now serving a term of imprisonment, received as a penalty for the later crime.

As for Philip, he was so mortified and shamed by the exposure of his dishonesty, and his attempt to fix the crime upon another, that he asked his father to send him to a boarding school at a distance, and his request was complied with.

Tom Calder was immediately discharged by Colonel Ross, but within a week he was engaged elsewhere at an advanced salary. His new employer was Mr. Obed Wilkins, better known to us as Uncle Obed.

If this statement excites surprise, I must refer my readers to the next chapter for an explanation.



CHAPTER XLII

CONCLUSION

The house of Colonel Ross was the finest in the village, with one exception. A certain Mr. Carrington, a city merchant, had, five years before, built a country villa surpassing it, a little distance away on the same street.

It was provided with handsome grounds, and originally cost, everything included, thirty-five thousand dollars, exclusive of furniture.

It was the day after Harry's triumphant acquittal that Uncle Obed remarked, casually:

"I hear that Mr. Carrington is anxious to sell his estate."

"I am not surprised," answered Mrs. Gilbert. "He bought it chiefly to please a young wife, and her sudden death sadly disturbed all his plans."

"I have made some inquiries," continued Uncle Obed, "and find that he is willing to sell everything, even to the furniture, for fifteen thousand dollars."

"That is a great bargain, for he could scarcely have paid less than forty thousand dollars for the whole."

"I have about decided to buy the place," said Mr. Wilkins, quietly.

"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Gilbert and Harry, in concert.

"Since you both think it will be a good bargain, I think I will buy it," continued Uncle Obed, his eyes twinkling.

"That's a good joke," said Harry.

"No joke at all, as you will find."

"You don't mean to say you can afford to buy such a place?" said Harry, in amazement.

"I consider myself worth seventy-five thousand dollars," said Mr. Wilkins.

Mrs. Gilbert and Harry stared at him in undisguised astonishment.

"I thought you were a very poor man," said the widow.

"I know you did," said Uncle Obed, laughing.

"What will Colonel Ross say?" wondered Harry.

"I feel more interested in what my niece will say," said the old man.

"I am afraid they will take you away from us, Uncle Obed, when they find out that you are rich."

"Not against my will, I think," replied the old man, with quiet determination.

"They won't want to send you back to Illinois now."

"I don't know but they will, when they find I won't go with them."

"Do you think of moving into the new house, Mr. Wilkins?" asked Mrs. Gilbert, anxiously.

"Yes, I think I shall."

"We shall be sorry to lose you," she said, soberly.

"You are not going to lose me," assured Uncle Obed. "Do you think I am going to live alone? I should die of loneliness. No! You and Harry go with me, and I shall take the liberty of paying all the expenses of housekeeping."

"How kind you are, Uncle Obed," said Harry.

"No, I'm not. I'm a selfish old man, looking out for what will make my home happy. And that's not all. Mrs. Gilbert, didn't you tell me you had a sister—a dressmaker in New York—in poor health."

"Yes, poor Maria. She is in poor health, but cannot afford a vacation."

"You shall offer her a home with you. There's plenty of room in Carrington's house. She will be company for all of us, especially when Master Harry goes to college."

"When I go to college!" Harry ejaculated.

"Certainly! Wouldn't you like it?"

"Very much; but it would take so many years, when I could be earning nothing."

"I will see that you are provided for, Harry; but I don't want you to go away from home at present, if it can be avoided. Isn't there any one in the village with whom you can prepare for college?"

"Mr. Rodman, the minister, is an excellent scholar, and I am sure he would be glad to take a pupil."

"Then go to see him at once. Tell him I don't want him to work for nothing. I will pay him well for his services, and buy him all the sticks he needs to flog you when you require it."

"That doesn't frighten me," said Harry, smiling.

"You will wonder how I became so rich," said Mr. Wilkins, after a pause. "I will tell you. Ten years ago I befriended a young man, and furnished him the means to go to California. There he prospered, and became very rich. A year since he returned, on a visit, and, to my amazement, insisted upon my accepting seventy thousand dollars as a free gift. This, added to the little property I already had, made me worth rather over seventy-five thousand dollars. Recently, feeling lonely, I came East, intending, if my relatives here received me kindly, to make my home with them, and make Philip Ross my heir. You know how my expectations were disappointed. It was a grief to me, but it is all right now. I look upon you and your mother as relatives, and I intend to treat you as such, and, in return, I know you will provide me with a happy home during my few remaining years."

It is needless to say what hearty assurances Uncle Obed received that his happiness would be consulted, and secured, so far as Harry and his mother were able to effect it.

The next day Uncle Obed, accompanied by Harry, went to the city, and returned the owner of the Carrington estate.

The Gilberts immediately began to make arrangements for moving into the new house. No sooner did Colonel Ross and his family receive a hint of what was going on than in amazement Mrs. Ross called at the little cottage, where she found all in confusion.

"Is it true, Uncle Obed," asked Mrs. Ross, abruptly, "that you are a rich man?"

"I believe so, Niece Lucinda," answered the old man, meekly.

"I am so glad," said Mrs. Ross, with suavity. "We all rejoice in your good fortune, dear uncle! And now, Uncle Obed, you must come over to our house at once. We will set aside the best room for you, and we will try to make you happy. This little house is not suitable for you."

"So I thought, and for that reason I have bought the Carrington place."

"So I heard," said Mrs. Ross; "but, of course, you won't think of living there alone?"

"No; Mrs. Gilbert and Harry will live with me there."

Mrs. Ross darted a glance of hatred and suspicion at the widow, whom she mentally accused of scheming for Uncle Obed's wealth.

"Better let the place, and come to live with us, dear Uncle Obed," she said, sweetly.

"No, thank you. We'll be good neighbors, Niece Lucinda, and I shall be glad to exchange calls; but I want a home of my own."

And to this determination Mr. Wilkins adhered, in spite of all his niece could say.

So Harry and his mother and his aunt took up their residence at the fine Carrington house, which Uncle Obed took care to support in a befitting manner, though not extravagantly.

He bought a horse and carriage, and engaged Tom Calder as a stable boy, as we have already hinted. Harry began at once to prepare for college, under the care of the minister.

Five years have passed away. He is now at Yale College, but comes home often to see his mother and Uncle Obed. He is one of the highest scholars in his class, and Uncle Obed is proud of his success.

He is recognized as the heir of Mr. Wilkins, much to the chagrin of Mrs. Lucinda Ross and family.

Philip is a spendthrift, and is giving his parents serious anxiety. He, too, entered college; but was expelled the first year. It is to be hoped he will some day turn over a new leaf.

For Harry I confidently expect a useful and honorable career, and I am sure that all my young readers will rejoice at the prosperity which has come to the struggling boy.



THE END



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THE END