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way. I don't know what you've done, but I ain't
afeared there is any great harm in it, though your

collar is on crooked and there's a tear in your jacket,
to say nothing of a black and blue place under your

left eye. But eat your tea. Here's some fruit
cake Biddy sent o' purpose."

Somebody did think of and feel sorry for him!
Fred felt comforted on the instant by Ellen's kind

words and Biddy's plum cake; and I must say, ate
a hearty, hungry boy's supper; then went to bed

and slept soundly until late the next morning
We have not space to follow Fred through the

tediousness of the following week. His father
strictly carried out the punishment to the letter

No one came near him but Ellen, though he heard
the voices of his sisters and the usual happy home

sounds constantly about him.
Had Fred really been guilty, even in the matter

of a street fight, he would have been the unhappiest
boy living during this time; but we know he was

not, so we shall be glad to hear that with his books
and the usual medley of playthings with which a

boy's room is piled, he contrived to make the time
pass without being very wretched. It was the disgrace

of being punished, the lost position in school,
and above all, the triumph which it would be to

Sam, which made him the most miserable. The
very injustice of the thing was its balm in this case.

May it be so, my young readers, with any punishment
which may ever happen to you!

All these things, however, were opening the way
to make Fred's revenge, when it came, the more

complete.
----

Fred Sargent, of course, had lost his place, and
was subjected to a great many curious inquiries

when he returned to school.
He had done his best, in his room, to keep up

with his class, but his books, studied "in prison," as
he had learned to call it, and in the sitting-room,

with his sister Nellie and his mother to help him,
were very different things. Still, "doing your best"

always brings its reward; and let me say in passing,
before the close of the month Fred had won his

place again.
This was more easily done than satisfying the

kind inquiries of the boys. So after trying the
first day to evade them, Fred made a clean breast

of it and told the whole story.
I think, perhaps, Mr. Sargent's severe and unjust

discipline had a far better effect upon the boys
generally than upon Fred particularly. They did

not know how entirely Fred had acted on the
defensive, and so they received a lesson which most

of them never forgot on the importance which a
kind, genial man, with a smile and a cheery word

for every child in town, attached to brawling.
After all, the worst effect of this punishment

came upon Sam Crandon himself. Very much disliked
as his wicked ways had made him before, he

was now considered as a town nuisance. Everybody
avoided him, and when forced to speak to him did

so in the coldest, and often in the most unkind
manner.

Sam, not three weeks after his wanton assault
upon Fred, was guilty of his first theft and of

drinking his first glass of liquor. In short, he was
going headlong to destruction and no one seemed

to think him worth the saving. Skulking by day,
prowling by night--hungry, dirty, beaten and

sworn at--no wonder that he seemed God-forsaken
as well as man-forsaken.

Mr. Sargent had a large store in Rutgers street.
He was a wholesaledealer in iron ware, and

Andrewsville was such an honest, quiet town
ordinary means were not taken to keep the goods

from the hands of thieves.
Back doors, side doors and front doors stood open

all the day, and no one went in or out but those
who had dealings with the firm.

Suddenly, however, articles began to be missed--a
package of knives, a bolt, a hatchet, an axe, a pair

of skates, flat-irons, knives and forks, indeed hardly
a day passed without a new thing being taken, and

though every clerk in the store was on the alert
and very watchful, still the thief, or thieves

remained undetected.
At last matters grew very serious. It was not so

much the pecuniary value of the losses--that was
never large--but the uncertainty into which it

threw Mr. Sargent. The dishonest person might be
one of his own trusted clerks; such things had

happened, and sad to say, probably would again.
"Fred," said his father, one Saturday afternoon,

"I should like to have you come down to the store
and watch in one of the rooms. There is a great

run of business to-day, and the clerks have their
hands more than full. I must find out, if possible

who it is that is stealing so freely. Yesterday I
lost six pearl-handled knives worth two dollars

apiece. Can you come?"
"Yes, sir," said Fred, promptly, "I will be there

at one, to a minute; and if I catch him, let him look
out sharp, that is all."

This acting as police officer was new business to
Fred and made him feel very important, so when

the town clock was on the stroke of one he entered
the store and began his patrol.

It was fun for the first hour, and he was so much
on the alert that old Mr. Stone, from his high stool

before the desk, had frequently to put his pen behind
his ear and watch him. It was quite a scene in a

play to see how Fred would start at the least
sound. A mouse nibbling behind a box of iron

chains made him beside himself until he had scared
the little gray thing from its hole, and saw it

scamper away out of the shop. But after the first
hour the watching FOR NOTHING became a little

tedious. There was a "splendid" game of base
ball to come off on the public green that afternoon;

and after that the boys were going to the "Shaw-
seen" for a swim; then there was to be a picnic on

the "Indian Ridge," and--well, Fred had thought
of all these losses when he so pleasantly assented to

his father's request, and he was not going to
complain now. He sat down on a box, and commenced

drumming tunes with his heels on its sides. This
disturbed Mr. Stone. He looked at him sharply, so

he stopped and sauntered out into a corner of the
back store, where there was a trap-door leading

down into the water. A small river ran by under
the end of the store, also by the depot, which was

near at hand, and his father used to have some of
his goods brought down in boats and hoisted up

through this door.
It was always one of the most interesting places

in the store to Fred; he liked to sit with his feet
hanging down over the water, watching it as it

came in and dashed against the cellar walls.
To-day it was high, and a smart breeze drove it in

with unusual force. Bending down as far as he
could safely to look under the store, Fred saw the

end of a hatchet sticking out from the corner of one
of the abutments that projected from the cellar, to

support the end of the store in which the trap-door
was.

"What a curious place this is for a hatchet!"
thought Fred, as he stooped a little further, holding

on very tight to the floor above. What he saw
made him almost lose his hold and drop into the

water below. There, stretched along on a beam
was Sam Crandon, with some stolenpackages near

him.
For a moment Fred's astonishment was too great

to allow him to speak; and Sam glared at him like
a wild beast brought suddenly to bay.

"Oh, Sam! Sam!" said Fred, at length, "how
could you?"

Sam caught up a hatchet and looked as if he was
going to aim it at him, then suddenly dropped it

into the water.
Fred's heart beat fast, and the blood came and

went from his cheeks; he caught his breath heavily,
and the water, the abutment and even Sam with his

wicked ugly face were for a moment darkened.
Then, recovering himself, he said:

"Was it you, Sam? I'm sorry for you!"
"Don't lie!" said Sam, glowering back, "you

know you're glad!"
"Glad? Why should I be glad to have you

steal?"
"Cause I licked you, and you caught it."

"So I did; but I am sorry, for all that."
"You lie!"

Fred had thought very fast while this conversation
was going on. He had only to lift his head and

call his father, then the boat would be immediately
pushed in under the store, Sam secured and his

punishment certain. There were stolen goods
enough to convict him, and his mode of ingress into

the store was now certain. This trap-door was
never locked; very often it was left open--the

water being considered the most effectual bolt and
bar that could be used; but Sam, a good swimmer

and climber, had come in without difficulty and had
quite a store of his own hidden away there for future

use. This course was very plain; but for some
reason, which Fred could not explain even to himself,

he did not feel inclined to take it; so he sat
looking steadily in Sam's face until he said:

"Look here, Sam, I want to show you I mean
what I say. I'm sorry you have turned thief and

if I can help you to be a better boy, I should be
glad to."

Again Fred's honest kindly face had the same
effect upon Sam that it had at the commencement

of their street fight; he respected and trusted it
unconsciously.

"Here!" said he, crawling along on the beam and
handing back the package of knives, the last theft

of which his father had complained.


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