ccord, and then it's
likely you'll wish he hadn't."

"I don't deserve----" began the young man, brokenly; but Uncle John
quickly interrupted him.

"No one deserves anything," said he; "but everyone gets something or
other, nevertheless, in this vale of tears. If you'll kindly remember
that you've no right to express an opinion in the presence of your
guardian, we'll get along better together. Now, then, you're going to
leave here, because the place is not comfortable. My guests fill every
room in my house, so you can't go there. But the hotel in Millville is a
cheerful-looking place, and I've noticed some vine-covered windows that
indicate pleasant and sunny rooms. Major, go and tell Hucks to hitch
that groaning, balky Daniel to the ancient buggy, and then to drive this
young man over to the hotel. We'll walk."

The Major started at once, and Uncle John continued: "I don't know
whether this arrangement suits you or not, Joseph, but it suits me; and,
as a matter of fact, it's none of your business. Feel able to take
a ride?"

The boy smiled, gratefully.

"Yes, indeed, Mr. Merrick," said he, and was shrewd enough not to
venture a word of thanks.

CHAPTER XVI.

A MATTER OF SPECULATION.

Old Hucks, still smiling, but dreadfully nervous over the discovery of
Joe, and Mr. Merrick's sudden activity in the boy's behalf, speedily
harnessed Daniel and induced the reluctant steed to amble down the path
to the cabin. Leaning on Uncle John's arm, the invalid walked to the
buggy and was assisted to mount to the seat beside Thomas. Then away
they started, and, although Dan obeyed Hucks more willingly than any
other driver, the Major and Uncle John walked 'cross-lots and reached
the hotel a good fifteen minutes in advance of the equipage.

The Millville Hotel depended almost entirely for patronage upon the
commercial travelers who visited the place periodically to sell goods to
the merchants, and these did not come too often, because trade was never
very energetic and orders never very large. Bob West boarded at the
hotel, and so did Ned Long, a "farm hand," who did sundry odd jobs for
anyone who needed him, and helped pay his "keep" by working for Mrs.
Kebble when not otherwise engaged.

Mrs. Kebble was the landlady, and a famous cook. Kate Kebble, a
slatternly girl of sixteen, helped her mother do the work and waited on
the table. Chet Kebble, the landlord, was a silent old man, with
billy-goat whiskers and one stra