d, when, to her surprise, she recognized
Harry.

So he had come back, after all, and falsified her prediction. Such is
human nature, that for an instant she was disappointed.

"Here's pretty work," she said, "stayin' out all night, and worryin' the
professor out of his wits."

"I couldn't help it, Mrs. Chase."

"Why couldn't you help it, I'd like to know?"

"I'll tell you afterwards. I must go up now, and see the professor."

Mrs. Chase was so curious that she returned, with the dishes, to hear
Harry's statement.

"Good morning," said Harry, entering the chamber.

"I'm sorry to have been so long away, but I couldn't help it. I hope you
haven't worried much about my absence."

"I knew you would come back, but Mrs. Chase had her doubts," said
Professor Henderson, pleasantly. "Now tell me what it was that detained
you?"

"A highwayman," said Harry.

"A highwayman!" exclaimed both in concert.

"Yes, I'll tell you all about it. But first, I'll say that he stole only
my money, and didn't suspect that I had a hundred and fifty dollars of
yours with me. That's all safe. Here it is. I think you had better take
care of that yourself, sir, hereafter."

The professor glanced significantly at Mr. Chase, as much as to say,
"You see how unjust your suspicions were. I am right, after all."

"Tell us all about it, Harry."

Our hero obeyed instructions; but it is not necessary to repeat a
familiar tale.

"Massy sakes!" ejaculated Betsy Chase. "Who ever heerd the like?"

"I congratulate you, Harry, on coming off with such flying colors. I
will, at my own expense, provide you with a new overcoat, as a reward
for bringing home my money safe. You shall not lose anything by your
fidelity."

CHAPTER XXXIV. IN DIFFICULTY

We must now transfer the scene to the Walton homestead.

It looks very much the same as on the day when the reader was first
introduced to it. There is not a single article of new furniture, nor
is any of the family any better dressed. Poverty reigns with undisputed
sway. Mr. Walton is reading a borrowed newspaper by the light of
a candle--for it is evening--while Mrs. Walton is engaged in her
never-ending task of mending old clothes, in the vain endeavor to make
them look as well as new. It is so seldom that anyone of the family has
new clothes, that the occasion is one long remembered and dated from.

"It seems strange we don't hear from Harry," said Mrs. Walton, looking
up from her work