commission. How much does it cost to go to New York?"

"The price of an excursion ticket is a dollar."

The old man took from his pocket a two-dollar bill.

"There," said he; "that'll pay your ticket and get you some dinner."

"But, Uncle Obed, you ought not to pay my expenses."

"Why not? Ain't you going on my business?"

"I'm going principally on my own," said Harry.

"Well," replied the old man, smiling, "then you must take it because I
am your uncle."

"I know I call you so."

"You seem a good deal more kin to me than Philip. He's ashamed of his
old uncle, and so is his mother; but you are not.

"No, no, Harry; it's all right. I ain't exactly poor, but I'd rather my
niece would think so. So don't you say anything to them about the
cowpons."

"I'm not likely to, Uncle Obed."

The old man went up to his room and brought down ninety dollars' worth
of government coupons, which, as gold was then ruling at a dollar and
twenty, would bring about a hundred and eight dollars in currency.

Mrs. Gilbert was much surprised when Harry told her that he intended to
go to New York the next day on business for Uncle Obed; but, of course,
had no idea that he had still more important business of his own.

CHAPTER XIX

SECOND VISIT TO THE WOOD

There was an early train from the neighboring village of Crampton to New
York. Harry got up early, and walked the first part of the way through
the fields to a point where the footpath struck the main road,
three-quarters of a mile from the village.

In this way it happened that he was not seen by any of his companions,
and his day's expedition was kept a secret.

Just after breakfast James Congreve received a call at the hotel from
Philip.

"Our friend in the wood must be hungry by this time," said James.

"Ho, ho!" laughed Philip, in evident enjoyment. "It's a splendid joke."

"I fancy he doesn't think so," said Congreve, shrugging his shoulders.

"Of course he doesn't. He must have been fully scared, staying there all
night."

"He doesn't strike me as a boy who would easily be frightened,"

"At any rate, he must be hungry," said Philip, in a tone of
satisfaction. "I guess he'll find it doesn't pay to insult me."

"Well, he's had enough of it; we'll go and release him."

"What for?"

"You don't want him to stay there all day, do you?" demanded Congreve.

"It wouldn't do him any harm," muttered Philip.

"What a mea