hing about that. Father went over to Whitestone
with Squire Wriggs, after you ran away. He went over again last night,
after he came from the city, and I haven't seen him for more than a
moment since."

"He is going to send me to the court-house," said Noddy, fully satisfied
that Bertha knew nothing about the proceedings of her father. "I am
going to sea, now."

"To sea, Noddy?"

"Yes, I'm going to work and win, as you told me, and when I come back I
shall be respectable."

Bertha had her doubts on this point. She had almost lost all hope of her
_protege_, and she did not think that a voyage in the forecastle of a
ship would be likely to improve his manners or his morals.

"I can't let you go, Noddy," said she.

"I must go; if I stay here they will put me in prison. You don't want to
see me put in prison, Bertha."

"I don't."

"Then what can I do? The officers are after me this moment."

"But I shall have to tell my father that I have seen you."

"You may do that; and you may tell him, too, that it won't be any use
for him to try to find me, for I shall keep out of the way. If they
catch me they will be smarter than I am," added Noddy, confidently.

"I want to see you again, Noddy, after I have talked with father about
you. I don't believe he intends to send you to prison."

"I know he does. I come over here to see you before I went away. I
couldn't go without seeing you, or I shouldn't have come. I may never
see you again, for I shan't run any more risks after this."

Bertha said all she could to induce him to meet her again; but the
cunning youth was afraid that some trap might be set to catch him, and
he assured her that this was positively his last appearance at Woodville
for the present. He was satisfied that Mr. Grant had taken the case into
his own hands, and that she could not save him if she would.

"Now, good-bye, Miss Bertha," said he, wiping a tear from his face.

"Don't go, Noddy," pleaded she.

"I must."

"You haven't any clothes but those you have on, and you have no money."

"I don't want any. I can get along very well. Won't you shake hands with
me before I go?"

"Certainly, I will," replied she, giving him her hand. "You will not let
me do anything for you now?"

"You have done more than I deserve. Good-bye, Miss Bertha," said he,
pressing the hand he held.

"Good-bye, Noddy," replied she. "Good-bye, if you must go."

"There comes your father," exclaimed he, as he bounded of