er when I told him, and he hurted my arm awful bad. And
then he went off and left me."

Mrs. Franklin became very white. "I think you will have to excuse me,
children. I--I do not feel very well. I will go lie down. Jack, your
arm, please."

Jack sprang to help her, and led her from the room. Cynthia only wailed
to scold Janet for her idle chatter, and then followed.

"But it's true, Cynthia," her small sister called after her. "It's true,
and you're real mean to say it isn't. You just ask Edith."

When Mr. Franklin returned and learned that his hastily uttered words of
the morning had been repeated to his wife and to Neal, he was distressed
beyond measure. "My dear, I never meant it," he said. "Hester, you must
know that I could not really believe that Neal would do such a thing. It
was impossible to help remarking upon the singular coincidence. I never
thought the child would hear me. What shall I do with her? She ought not
to have repeated what I said."

"Do nothing, John. Janet is not to blame; naturally, a child of her age
would get it wrong. But oh, I am relieved to find you did not really
think it! It gave me such a shock to hear that you thought him capable
of such an action."

"Where is the boy? I want to tell him myself."

But Neal could not be found. Cynthia and Jack hunted over the place,
looking for him in all his haunts. He was not on the river, for his
canoe was in its place. He had not gone to the village, for no horse was
out, and whether he had walked or driven, his sister would have met him
when she returned from Boston. He could not have gone for a walk, for
Bob had been left at home, and Neal never walked without Bob.

A horrible foreboding seized Cynthia. What if Neal had run away? But no;
surely he would never do such a thing. The idea of her even thinking of
it, when such a course would only make people believe that he had really
taken the money. Cynthia scolded herself severely for having allowed the
supposition to come into her mind. But where was he? As a last resource
she called Janet to her and again questioned the child closely. They
were standing on the drive in front of the house.

"What did Neal say to you, Janet, when he went off?"

"Oh, he was awful mad, I told you, Cynthia. He was just mad."

"But did he say anything?"

"Oh yes, lots. But I forget what."

"Can't you remember anything, Janet? Not one word? Did he say where he
was going?"

"No-o," drawled Janet, "he jus