Quincy's mind was made up instantly. He drove to the hotel, left the team, with instructions to have it ready for him when he came down on the express that reached Eastborough Centre at 7.15 P.M., ran for the station and caught on to the back platform of the last car as it sped on its way to Boston.
Arriving there, he first took a hasty lunch, then hiring a coupe by the hour, drove to his bank on State Street. Here he left the bonds with instructions to write to Eastborough Centre the amount realized from them and passed to the credit of his account.
His next trip was to his father's house on Beacon Street, where he found his mother and sisters. They were overjoyed to see him, and his younger sister declared that he had grown better looking since he went away. She wanted to know if he had fallen in love with a country girl. Quincy replied that his heart was still free and if it wasn't for the law he would have her for his wife, and no one else. Maude laughed and slapped him.
He next rode to his father's office on Court Street. The Hon. Nathaniel had just lunched at Parker's and was enjoying a good cigar when his son came in.
Quincy told him that the Jim Sawyer at Eastborough Poorhouse was unquestionably their missing relative.
"Poor Jim," said Nathaniel; "I ought to go and see him."
"No; I wouldn't," said Quincy, "it will do no good, and his remorse is deep enough now without adding to it."
He then told his father about the money, and the latter agreed that Jim's idea was right and Quincy had best use the money as though it were his own.
"By the by," said his father, wheeling round in his office chair, "that Miss Putnam from Eastborough is a very pretty girl; don't you think so, Quincy?"
"Handsome is as handsome does," thought Quincy to himself, but he only said, "Where did you see her?"