u got that money I saw you have."

"No matter whether I can or not. You know, if nobody else does, that it
didn't come out of that letter."

"What do you mean by that?"

"What's the use of talking, Ham Fishley?" I replied, impatiently.
"Didn't you hear the dog howling that night when you broke open Miss
Larrabee's letter, and put the money in your pocket? I did, and I went
down stairs in my stocking feet to let him in. When I came to the store
door, I saw what you were doing. I saw you set the letter afire, and
throw it into the stove. Then you put the envelope in after it. But that
didn't burn up, and I saved a piece of it in the morning when I made the
fire."

"That's a pretty story!" exclaimed Ham; but I saw that he was pale, and
that his lips quivered. "Do you expect any one to believe it?"

"I don't expect your father to believe it; but, if you want to fetch the
constable, I think I can make him believe it."

"I went for the constable, but he was not in."

"Lucky for you!"

"You haven't told where you got that money."

"I don't mean to tell; but I think I can fetch some one to explain it,
if the worst comes," I added.

It was useless to talk with him. My secret sealed my lips and tied my
hands. I could do nothing, and it seemed like folly for me to stay and
face my tyrants, who would enjoy my ruin. I could appeal to the senator
to save me; but, if he did so, it would be at the expense of his own
reputation, and he would not thank me for putting him in such an
unpleasant position. If it had not been for Flora, I would have fled
that instant. Though I had prepared the raft for her accommodation, I
hardly expected she would be willing to go with me.

I went from the store into the kitchen, where I found the poor girl at
the stove. She had been crying, and I had never before seen her look so
sad and hopeless.

"What is the matter, dear Flora?" I asked, seating myself at her side.

"Nothing, Buckland."

"You have been crying, Flora."

"I couldn't help it."

"What made you cry?"

"I don't want to make trouble," she replied, the tears coming to her
eyes again; "but I wish it was October, that we might leave this house.
I'm sure Clarence does not know how much we suffer."

"Has Mrs. Fishley been abusing you again?"

She looked at me, and wiped away her tears before she answered.

"I did not mean to tell you of it, Buckland; but she did shake me
again, and she hurt me very much," sobbed she.

"I'