Caleb mustn't have that money; it belongs to my father."

The men grew very much interested, and began to creep up a little
nearer, in order to catch every word.

"Money all gone," sighed Willy; and then, appearing to think for a
moment, added, "O, yes; but I know where I put it!"

Breathless with surprise, Mr. Parlin and his guests watched the child as
he pattered with bare feet across the floor to the west side of the
room, climbed upon a high stool, and opening the "vial cupboard," took
out from a chink in the wall, behind the bottles, a little old
singing-book.

It was only the danger of startling Willy too suddenly that prevented
the amazed father from snatching the book out of his hand.

"Yes, the ox-money is here," said Willy, patting the notes, which lay
between the leaves.

How _do_ you suppose he could see them, with his eyes fixed and vacant?

Then he seemed to be considering for a space what to do; but at last put
the singing-book back again in the chink behind the bottles, clambered
down from the stool, and taking his favorite seat in the red chair,
began to warm his little cold feet before the fire.

"Well, that beats all!" exclaimed Dr. Hilton, before any one else could
get breath to speak.

Mr. Parlin went at once to the cupboard, and took down the singing-book.

"The money is safe and sound," said he, as he looked it over,--"safe and
sound; and Caleb Cushing is an honest man, thank the Lord!"

"Three cheers for Caleb!" said Dr. Hilton.

"Three cheers for Kellup!" cried one of the teamsters.

And quite forgetting the sleeping child, the rest of the teamsters took
up the toast, and shouted,--

"Three cheers for Kellup Cushing! Hoo-ra-a-ay!"

Of course that waked Willy, and frightened him dreadfully. Imagine
yourself going to sleep in bed, and waking up in a chair in another
room, in a great noise. It was the first time the little fellow had ever
been roused from one of his "walking-spells," and they had to carry him
away to his mother to be comforted.

He did not know that night what had happened; but next morning they told
him that Caleb did not steal the money, and that papa had written a
letter to beg him to come back.

"And how think we found out that Caleb didn't steal?" asked Stephen.

Of course Willy had not the least idea.

"Because you stole the money yourself!" replied the hectoring Stephen.

"O, what a story!" exclaimed Willy, angrily. "'S if _I'd_ steal!"

"Ah, but you