n't believe you are the kind of boy that gives up. You'll do most
anything you want to do some day."

David's face flushed under Madge's enthusiasm. "Oh, no, I won't," he
answered miserably. "There are some things a fellow can't live down."

"You mean this theft?" inquired Madge.

"Yes," nodded the boy. "Everyone believes me to be a common thief."

"But you didn't steal the things. I believe I know who took them,"
hazarded Madge; "that man and the old woman who were hiding in the
woods."

Madge saw at a glance that her guess was true. David gazed at her
helplessly. Then he shook his head. "Those people must have been far
away from this neighborhood when the things were taken," he replied.

"Oh, no, they weren't," retorted Madge. "The old woman was at the farm
the night of the fire, dressed up as 'Old Nokomis.' I wondered, at the
time, if she was not up to some kind of mischief. Then, later on, when
Nellie was lost, she saw the same man and woman. I believe they changed
their hiding place for fear they might be suspected of the theft, and
that we would send the sheriff to look for them."

"But why should I try to shield _them_, Miss Morton?" asked David
obstinately, "and how could I have the stolen goods if other people
took them?"

It was Madge's turn to flush and be silent. "Don't make me tell you why
I think you are trying to shield them, David, by taking the shame on
yourself," she pleaded. "You see, I believe I have guessed what those
people are to you."

"You can't have guessed," protested David hoarsely. "You don't know
anything of me or my people."

"Girls are good at guessing," explained Madge apologetically. "You see,
Miss Betsey told us that your father wasn't a very good kind of man, and
that he sometimes went away from home and wandered around the country
for a long time. And, and----" Madge hesitated. "At first when you spoke
to the man and old woman, I was just surprised at your knowing such
curious people. Then I began to think. The man looked something like
you, David. So I have just worked it out in my own mind that the man
took the things, and that you made him let you return them to Miss
Betsey and Mrs. Preston, and that you are willing to take the blame on
yourself because--because----" Madge hesitated again and looked down.
"Because the man is your father!" she said gently. "Am I right, David?
Please tell me."

David's face turned red, then white, then red again. "You think that
thief