ntrary, it would exactly suit my purpose, Mr. Collingsby. He
is in a carriage at the door, between two officers."

"Don't say anything harsh to Philip, father," interposed Marian,
wounded by his sternness towards me. "It was he who saved me from harm,
and he has brought Mr. Whippleton back, with all the money he stole."

"Do you mean so?"

[Illustration: THE SAD END OF CHARLES WHIPPLETON'S CAREER. Page 317.]

I went to the door, and requested the officers to bring in their
prisoner.

"Is it possible that I have been mistaken in you, young man?" added Mr.
Collingsby, glancing at me again. "I was satisfied that you had run
away with my partner, because you had shared his guilt."

"You were mistaken, sir," I answered, as the officers conducted Mr.
Whippleton into the room.

The prisoner was very feeble, and was placed in an arm-chair. His head
was tied up with a handkerchief, and he looked as miserable as a human
being could. He was not a man of great courage, and his mishaps
appeared to have broken his spirit.

"What's the matter with him?" asked Mr. Collingsby, turning to me.

"He was hurt on the head."

"Philip had a hard battle with him, father; but finally struck him
down, and he fell senseless."

"I ought to add, Mr. Collingsby, that Marian was the bravest girl I
ever saw. I should have lost the battle, and I doubt if you would ever
have seen either your partner or your money, if she had not taken part
in the struggle," I interposed.

"All this makes a very strange story."

"Perhaps you had better hear the rest of it before you judge," I
replied. "I thought it possible, after I left you day before yesterday,
that Mr. Whippleton had gone off in his boat, and I hastened to her
moorings. My supposition was correct."

"We knew he had gone in his boat, but we supposed he would land at some
town on the other side," said Mr. Collingsby. "Officers were sent to
Detroit and Toledo to intercept him."

Marian and I told our story as I have already related it, and we had an
attentive and interested audience.

"But what has become of Waterford?" asked one of the officers. "If he
was left at the creek, he must have gone somewhere."

"He won't go far, for he has not a hundred dollars in the world," said
Mr. Whippleton. "Phil defeated all our plans."

All the party looked at me so earnestly that I am afraid I blushed;
for, conceited as I am, it disturbs me to be made a hero.

"What were your plans, Mr. Whipple