his entire estate.

His late friend listened to this story in amazement.

"I knew Stephen Watson to be unprincipled," he said, "but I didn't think
him as bad as that. He has swindled you shamefully."

"Just my idea, Mr. Miller."

"While he has carefully feathered his own nest. This wrong must be
righted."

"It was my intention to find some good lawyer, and ask his advice."

"We'll do it, Kit. But, first of all, I'll go with you to this town in
Pennsylvania, and obtain the necessary testimony sworn to before a
justice. Then we'll find a good lawyer, and move on the enemy's works."

"I will be guided by your advice entirely, Mr. Miller."

"It will be a satisfaction to me to get even with your uncle. To swindle
his own nephew in this barefaced manner! We'll bring him up with a short
turn, Kit!"

The next day Kit and his new friend left Albany.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

KIT COMES HOME.

One morning James Schuyler Kit's old acquaintance at Smyrna, received a
letter from Kit, in which he said: "Our circus season is ended, but I am
detained a few days by important business. I will tell you about it when
we meet. If you see my uncle tell him that I expect to reach Smyrna
somewhere about the twenty-fifth of October."

"I wonder what Kit's important business can be," thought James. "I hope
it is something of advantage to him."

James happened to meet Stephen Watson an hour later.

"Mr. Watson," he said, "I had a letter from Kit this morning."

"Indeed!"

"He says that his circus season is over."

"And he is out of employment," said Watson, his lip curling.

"I suppose so; he expects to reach Smyrna somewhere about the
twenty-fifth of the month."

Stephen Watson smiled, but said nothing.

"No doubt he will find it very convenient to stay at home through the
winter," he reflected. "Well, he must think I am a fool to take back a
boy who has defied my authority."

It was Saturday, and Ralph was home from boarding-school.

"Ralph," said his father, "I bring you good news."

"What is it, pa?"

"Your cousin will be home from the circus towards the last of next
week."

"Who told you? Did he write you?"

"He wrote to James Schuyler, who told me."

"I suppose he expects you will give him a home through the winter."

"You may rest easy, Ralph. He won't have his own way with me, I can
assure you."

"What shall you do, pa?"

"I shall see Bickford about taking him back. I have occasion to go over
ther