thought I might as well
come home," answered Harry.

By this time his mother's eyes happened to fall on the silver chain
displayed across his vest.

"What is that, Harry?" she asked.

Harry drew out the watch, with pardonable pride.

"Where did you get it?" asked his mother, in amazement.

"A lawyer in New York gave it to me."

"But what lawyer do you know, my son?" asked his mother, more and more
bewildered.

"That isn't all, mother. Look at that!"

Harry drew out the package of bonds, and displayed them to his
astonished mother.

She at once concluded that he had found them.

"They are not yours, Harry," she said. "If you found them, you must
restore them to the owner."

"So I will, Mrs. Gilbert. I give these bonds to you, and recommend you
to take good care of them."

"What does all this mean, Harry? You cannot give away what does not
belong to you."

Harry felt that it was time to explain, and he did so. It was necessary
to begin with the account of Philip's treatment of him in the wood.

Mrs. Gilbert was very indignant, and she spoke warmly.

"It was shameful!" she said. "To leave you there alone in the dark wood,
tied hand and foot! The boy ought to be served in the same way
himself!"

"Wait till I get through my story, mother," he said, "and perhaps you
will find that Philip got into a little trouble of his own."

So he continued his story, and told, finally, of how he found Philip
Ross bound, and trembling for his life, in the cabin of Ralph Temple.

"Served him right," said Mrs. Gilbert, satisfactorily.

"As things have turned out, I can afford to overlook his past meanness.
He has suffered punishment, though not at my hands."

"If I had known that you were mixed up with burglars, I should have felt
very anxious, Harry."

"I know it, and that is why I didn't tell you. However, all's well that
ends well. The tin box is found, the robbers are caught, and I have a
rich mother."

As he spoke, he put the bonds into his mother's hands.

"But, Harry, they are yours. I cannot accept them."

"Take care of them, at any rate, mother, and use the interest. I shall
like it better than to keep them myself."

"You are a good boy, Harry," said Uncle Obed. "I like to see boys think
considerable of their mothers. And now, if you are both ready for
dinner, I am."

"Excuse me, Mr. Wilkins. I was so intent upon Harry's story that I am
afraid the dinner is cold."

They sat down to dinner, and th