ve done it," Fred went on. "I'm going to
look them up right away, and if I can recover the opals, and make the
thief confess before you, then that will end the affair, will it?"

"So far as he is concerned, it will," the old lady answered; "but I
shall never forgive myself for suspecting my niece's son of such a
thing. Fred, do you suppose he would come to see me if you took him a
message?"

"Who, Andrew?" exclaimed the delighted Fred. "Why, I'm as sure of it
as that I draw breath. He'd almost fly here, he'd be that glad you
believed him innocent. Do you want me to tell him, ma'am?"

"Wait, let it go for a little while. When I send you word, you may tell
him all that has occurred here to-day, and how a silly old woman had
her eyes opened to the truth by a clever boy. Meanwhile, please do not
say a word to any one, will you, Fred?"

He was a little disappointed, because it would have given him so much
pleasure to carry the joyful news to Bristles; but then, a little more
delay could not hurt. And besides, it would give him a chance to look
around, find out just what the habits of both the grocer's and the
butcher's boy were, and possibly make the guilty one confess, on
promise of immunity from punishment.

"I'll promise to do just whatever you say, ma'am, though I hope for the
sake of poor Bristles you won't keep me waiting long," he answered.

"Fred, shake hands with me again," said the old maid, surveying him
with kindling eyes. "I take back a lot of the mean things I've been
thinking about boys these few days. There _is_ something worth while in
some of them. My better nature told me so right along. They're not all
bad. I reckon now, you'd sooner do most anything than to break the fond
heart of that fine little mother of yours; wouldn't you, Fred?"

"Oh! I haven't always been above suspicion, ma'am," Fred hastened to
say, in confusion. "I'm no better than the average fellow, and I'm
afraid I haven't always been just the boy I ought to be, either. I
suppose I've made her feel bad a lot of times. But as to doing anything
real wicked like stealing things--the worst I ever did was to get in
some neighbor's orchard at night, when we had plenty of good apples at
home."

Miss Muster laughed at that frank admission, as though she thought it
quite an original plea for the boy in general.

"Oh! I understand all boys have failings like that," she said; "and
sensible people wouldn't have them grow up like little saints.