hink so?" replied Vernon.

"Why, Vernon, there was some kind of a ridiculous story current at
Vicksburg, to the effect that you had joined the church, or something of
that sort."

"Ha, ha! funny!" said Vernon, adopting the free and easy style, which
had formerly distinguished his colloquial efforts. "Where did you pick
up the story?"

"O, it was quite current when I left Vicksburg."

"A good joke, hey?" said Vernon, musing.

When Maxwell left Vicksburg, it was impossible that any such story could
have been extant. Of his reformation no one but the people of Cottage
Island could have known anything. It seemed a little mysterious that
Maxwell should know of it; but the fact of De Guy's visit to the house
of his father came to his assistance, and the mystery was solved. De Guy
had communicated this information to Maxwell, and thus he was enabled to
establish conclusively the connection between them.

Vernon's plan for the future was adopted; and manifesting no surprise,
he denied the fact of his reformation, however strong the circumstances
might be against him. He had often been implicated in fouler deceptions
than this in a worse cause, and, in spite of his great resolves, he did
not hesitate in this instance.

"Quite a sell, wasn't it, this reformation? The old gentleman has a fine
place up there,--money in the bank,--hey, boy? I saw through the whole
of it, as soon as I heard the absurd story," said Maxwell, who, to do
him justice, did not believe the tale. It was too much for his
credulity, that a thing like Vernon could be animated by a good
motive,--could, by any possibility, abandon the error of his ways.

"Just so, Max. The fact is, I found the old fellow had plenty of money,
and no one but me to leave it to; so I thought it would be a devilish
pity to have it all go to found a hospital, an orthodox college, or some
such absurdity, and I could not resist the temptation to become a little
saintly, just for a few days."

"Bravo, Vernon! You will yet be a rich man. You did it well. The old
fellow swallowed it all, didn't he?"

"As an alderman does turtle-soup. But, Max, where did you slip to from
Vicksburg?"

"To tell you the truth, I was a little afraid of your penitence, and
thought it was not safe to be in the same coach with you; so I gave you
the slip, by going down the river by land a few miles, and then taking
the boat."

"But you didn't know I had reformed then,--ha, ha, ha!"

"Yes. I heard s