A little while later Fred took his way to the large house in which Miss Muster lived. His heart beat high with satisfaction, because of the fact that he had in so brief a time fully proved the innocence of Bristles.
At sight of Fred it was remarkable what a sudden look of expectation flashed over the thin face of Bristles' aunt. Apparently, then, she had come to place considerable confidence in the boy, whose manly bearing must have impressed her, as it did nearly everyone with whom Fred came in contact.
"You are bringing me news, Fred!" she exclaimed, as she put out her hand toward him. "Your smiling face tells me that, for you cannot hide it. Oh! I hope I am not mistaken. Have you found my opals?"
"Yes, ma'am, the whole seven that you said you'd lost," he answered, promptly.
"That is good news," the lady went on; "but tell me more; have you learned who the thief is, Fred?"
A vein of anxiety might have been noticed now in her voice; for she could not help fearing that after all it might prove to be her nephew.
"I saw him take a little cardboard box out of the hollow of a tree," Fred started to say, "look at what it held, and then stick it back. After he went away, ma'am, I examined that same box, and found the opals there."
"W—who was the boy?" she faltered, her hands shutting tightly as she kept her eyes fastened on Fred.
"Gabe Larkins, ma'am!"
"Oh! the butcher's boy!" and she gave a great sigh, as of relief.