Mr. Parlin spread it between the leaves of a little singing-book and lay it in the drawer. Did Caleb find it there now? And if he did, did he leave it there?

Little boys, what do you suppose? You see he had been cheated out of ninety dollars, and was very angry about it; and now he had the best chance in the world to help himself to another ninety dollars, and make up his loss. Do you think he would do it? Mr. Parlin was very careless about money; quite likely he would never miss this. Was that what Caleb was thinking about, as he knit his brows so hard?

True, Caleb professed to fear God, but perhaps he did not fear Him; perhaps he had been living a lie all this time—who knows?

After he had staid inside the bar a little while, he came out, and looking carefully at Willy, to make sure he was still asleep, stole out doors and joined the teamsters. They had only reached the top of the hill, and hardly any one had noticed that Caleb had not been with them all the while. The fire was only Mr. Chase's chimney burning out; but it was so late by this time that the men did not go back to Mr. Parlin's bar-room.

Next morning Caleb went over to Cross Lots to see about selling a load of potatoes, and soon after he left there was a great excitement in the house. Mr. Parlin had found, on going to his money-drawer, that he had lost ninety dollars.

"Strange!" said he; "I remember it was there all safe at six o'clock; for I saw it with my own eyes. It was spread in an old singing-book; and the singing-book is gone too."

"Could anybody have taken it?" said Love. "Who was here last night?"

"O, I never leave a man alone in the bar-room," replied her father; "at any rate I didn't last night."

"Caleb would attend to that," said Mrs. Parlin; "he is more particular than you are, I think."

Willy looked up, with his black eyes full of questions.

"Was it that money you had for the oxen, papa? Caleb telled me all about it last night. He said you ought to not keep it; you ought to give it to him; he wanted it."

Mr. Parlin shook his head at Willy. "You mustn't make up such stories as that, my son."

"I guess he dreamed it," said sister Love.

"O, I didn't, I didn't; Caleb said so," cried Willy; "he said so last night."

Caleb was gone an unusually long time; and when Dr. Hilton returned from Harlow he said he left him at the bank in that town depositing some money.

That seemed strange, for Caleb had been so unfortunate that no one supposed he had any money to put in the bank.

"If it was anybody but Caleb, I should almost suspect he took that ninety dollars," said Seth, after a while.

"Don't—don't think it," exclaimed his mother; "we know Caleb too well for that."

"O, no, no, no!" cried little Willy. "Caleb is going to give me some rabbits. Caleb carries me pickaback; do you s'pose he'd steal?"

They all laughed at that; it was a little boy's reasoning.

When Caleb came home that night, and was asked why he had been gone so long, he blushed, and, as Seth thought, looked guilty. He did not say he had put any money in the bank, and did not even mention having been at Harlow at all. Nobody could think why he should make such a secret of going to Harlow, for Caleb was a great talker, and usually told all his affairs to everybody.

"Father has lost ninety dollars, Caleb," said Seth, looking him straight in the eye; "who do you suppose has got it?"

"Where? When?" cried Caleb; and then, when he had heard the story, he turned quite pale, and declared he was "'palled." When Caleb was greatly amazed, he said he was "'palled."

It was very uncomfortable at Mr. Parlin's for a few days. Nobody liked to believe that Caleb had taken the money, but it did really seem very much like it. Mrs. Parlin said she could not and would not believe it, and she even shed tears when she saw her husband and sons treat Caleb so coldly.

Poor Caleb! Whether he was guilty or not, he was certainly very unhappy.

"Willy," said he, "what made you tell your father I said I wanted his money? I never made such a speech in my life?"

"O, yes, you did, Caleb! Certain true you did! And I a sitting on your knee. But you wouldn't steal, Cale Cushing, and I telled my papa you wouldn't."

"Willy," said Caleb, sadly, "I don't think you mean to tell a lie, but what you are talking about I don't know. I never stole so much as a pin in my life; yet all the same I must go away from this place. I can't stay where everybody is pointing the finger at me."

"Who pointed a finger at you, Caleb? I didn't see 'em."

Caleb smiled a broken-hearted smile, kissed Willy over and over again, and went away that night, no one knew whither. He said to himself,—

Was he guilty? Who could tell? Was he innocent? Then you may be sure God would make it clear some time. Caleb would only have to wait.

CHAPTER III.

THE TRUNDLE-BED.

They were all very sorry to have Caleb go away, for he had lived in the family a great many years, and was always good-natured and obliging.

"But since he has turned out to be a thief, of course we don't want him here," said Seth.

"How can you speak so, my son?" said his mother, reprovingly. "You do not really know any harm of Caleb. Remember what the Bible says, 'Judge not, that ye be not judged.'

"Why, mother, who judged Caleb? Who ever accused him of stealing? I should think he judged himself—shouldn't you? When a man runs away as he did, it looks very much as if he was guilty."

"O, no," said gentle Love, who was knitting "double mittens" in the corner; "that isn't a sure sign at all. I dare say he went away because he was unhappy. How would you like to live with people that don't trust you? Why, Seth, you couldn't bear it, I'm sure."

"I wish Caleb didn't go off," said Willy; "he was a-going to give me a rabbit."

"Well," said Stephen, in a teasing tone, "he wouldn't have gone off if it hadn't been for you, Master Willy! You said he wanted father's money, you know, and that was what put us to thinking."

"O, yes, he telled me he wanted it," cried the little fellow stoutly.

"Willy, Willy, you should be more careful in repeating other people's words," said Mrs. Parlin, looking up from the jacket she was making. "Little boys like you are so apt to make mistakes, that they ought to say, 'Perhaps,' or, 'I think so,' and never be too sure."

"Then I'm not sure; but perhaps I know, and I guess I think so real hard."

"That's right, little Pawnee Indian," laughed Stephen. "Indians like you always stick fast to an idea when they once get hold of it."

"I'm not an Indian," said Willy, ready to cry; "and I never said Caleb stealed; 'twas you said so; you know you did."

It grew very cold that winter, about "Christmas-tide," and one night the wind howled and shrieked, while up in the sky the moon and stars seemed to shiver and shine like so many icicles. Willy had been put to bed at the usual time, and nicely tucked in, and it was nearly half past eight, the time for him to begin his wanderings. Lydia sat