illful lawyer's close
questioning, that Harry was innocent. He had paid him the money found
in Mrs. Flint's possession, and had slipped the coins wrapped in the
shop bills into his pocket when he took him by the collar on his
return from the office.

He had known for some time that the partners were on the watch for the
thief. He had heard them talking about the matter; but he supposed he
had managed the case so well as to exonerate himself and implicate
Harry, whom he hated for being a good boy.

Harry was discharged. His heart swelled with gratitude for the kindly
interposition of Providence. The trial was past--the triumph had come.

Mr. Wake, Mr. Wade, and other friends, congratulated him on the happy
termination of the affair; and while they were so engaged the elderly
man elbowed his way through the crowd to the place where Harry stood.

"Young man, what is your father's name?" he asked, in tones tremulous
with emotion.

"I have no father," replied Harry.

"You had a father--what was his name?"

"Franklin West; a carpenter by trade. He went from Redfield to
Valparaiso when I was very young, and we never heard anything from
him."

"My son!" exclaimed the stranger, grasping our hero by the hand, while
the tears rolled down his brown visage.

Harry did not know what to make of this announcement.

"Is it possible that you are my father?" asked he.

"I am, Harry; but I was sure you were dead. I got a letter, informing
me that your mother and the baby had gone; and about a year after I
met a man from Rockville who told me that you had died also."

"It was a mistake."

They continued the conversation as they walked from the court room to
the store. There was a long story for each to tell. Mr. West confessed
that, for two years after his arrival at Valparaiso, he had
accomplished very little. He drank hard, and brought on a fever, which
had nearly carried him off. But that fever was a blessing in disguise;
and since his recovery he had been entirely temperate. He had nothing
to send to his family, and shame prevented him from even writing to
his wife. He received the letter which conveyed the intelligence of
the death of his wife and child, and soon after learned that his
remaining little one was also gone.

Carpenters were then in great demand in Valparaiso. He was soon in a
condition to take contracts, and fortune smiled upon him. He had
rendered himself independent, and had now returned to spend his