Jack, as the mare came to a sudden stop.

"Seems to be a wagon standing," said Rufe, shading his eyes from the
lantern and peering into the darkness.

Jack jumped out, ran forward, and gave a shout. The wagon was a buggy,
and the horse was Snowfoot, standing before the gate, waiting patiently
to be let in.

Quite wild with delight and astonishment, Jack took the lantern and
examined horse and vehicle.

"Old Lion! you were right," he exclaimed. "The scamp must have let the
horse go, and taken to his heels. And the horse made for home."

"The most he cared for was to get off with the money," said Rufe, not
quite so abundantly pleased as his friend. "What's this thing under the
seat?"

"The compass!" said Jack, if possible, still more surprised and
overjoyed, "which I accused Zeph of stealing!"

Rufe continued rummaging, and, holding the lantern with one hand, lifted
up a limp garment with the other.

"What in thunder? A pair of breeches! Rad's breeches! Where can the
scamp have gone without his breeches? See what's in the pocket there,
Jack."

Jack thrust in his hand, and brought out some loose bank-notes. He
thrust in his hand again, and brought out a pocket-book, containing more
bank-notes. It was Mr. Betterson's pocket-book, and the notes were the
stolen money.

Jack was hastily turning them over--not counting them, he was too much
amazed and excited to do that--when the candle in the lantern gave a
final flicker and went out, leaving the boys and the mystery of the
compass and the money and Rad's pantaloons enveloped in sudden
darkness.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

THE MORNING AFTER.

Bright rose the sun the next morning over the leafy tops of Long Woods,
and smiled upon the pleasant valley.

It found many a trace of the previous day's devastation,--trees uprooted
or twisted off at their trunks, branches and limbs broken and scattered,
fences blown down, and more than one man's buildings unroofed or
demolished.

It found Peakslow, accompanied by the two older boys, walking about his
private and particular pile of ruins, in a gloomy and bewildered state
of mind, as if utterly at a loss to know where the repair of such
tremendous damages should begin. And (the sun itself must have been
somewhat astonished) it found Mrs. Peakslow and the younger children,
five in number, comfortably quartered in Lord Betterson's "castle."

It also had glimpses of Rufe, with light and jolly face, driving home by
prai