hat not all of this came from conscience. Some of
it was due to hunger.

He had never felt so hungry in his life. And it seemed an endless time
from then till breakfast the next morning.

He had just turned out his light, and was about to slip into bed when he
heard a soft knock on his door. He opened it and peered out into the
dark hall.

"It's me, honey," came a low voice. "Take dis an' don't say nuffin'."

The "dis" was a leg of chicken and a big cut of peach pie!

The door closed, and old Martha went puffing slowly to her room in the
attic.

"Ah doan't care," she said to herself defiantly. "Ef it wus right fer de
ravuns ter take food ter de prophet 'Lijuh in der wil'erness, et's right
fer me ter keep mah po' lam' frum starvin'. So, dere, now!"

CHAPTER VIII

A FRUITLESS SEARCH

There were no traces left the next morning of Martha's stealthy visit.
The chicken bone had gone out of the window, but all the rest had gone
where it would do the most good. And Teddy had slept the sleep of the
satisfied, if not exactly the sleep of the just.

Breakfast was served at an unusually early hour, as there was a great
deal to be done to right the wrong of the day before, and it was very
important that the boys get an early start in the search for Uncle
Aaron's missing papers.

He himself had little hope of finding them. If they were in the river,
which seemed to him most likely, they might have been carried down the
stream. And, even if they were found, they might be so spoiled by the
soaking that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to make them out.

In any event, it meant for him a lot of trouble, and he was in a
fiendish temper, when, after a sleepless night, he came downstairs. He
responded gruffly to the greetings of the others, and favored Teddy with
a black stare that showed that he had not forgiven him.

"What have you got up your sleeve for to-day?" he growled. "Some more
mischief, I'll be bound."

"I'm going to look for your papers," answered Teddy promptly, "and I
won't stop until I find them."

His mother shot him a bright glance at the respectful reply, which
rather took the wind out of Aaron's sails.

"Humph," he muttered. "Talk is cheap." But he became silent and devoted
himself to the breakfast, which Mrs. Rushton, with Martha's help, had
made unusually tempting in order to coax him into good humor.

"Now," said Mr. Mansfield Rushton when they had finished, "your Uncle
Aaron and