"You're a good old dad!" cried the boy, and clasped his hand gratefully. "I—I guess I was a chump not to tell you the whole truth from the start," he added.
"It would have saved this misunderstanding, Harry. But come, supper must be waiting."
"I'll get the wood in in a jiffy," said Harry, and ran to the wood-pile once more. Soon he had all he could carry, and his father came after him with several heavy sticks.
"I can't make out who took that box," said Mr. Westmore later on to his wife and family. "Harry didn't see anybody in the alleyway and neither did I or Johnson." Johnson was an old man who worked at the store.
"You can be thankful you didn't lose more," said Mrs. Westmore. "Was the society pin worth much?"
"About three dollars. I think I'll have the blacksmith put up some iron bars over that window. Otherwise a thief could get in there some time and rob the store," went on Mr. Westmore.
Joe was glad to see that his father did not suspect Harry. He wondered where his brother had procured the rest of the money, but came to the conclusion that Harry had borrowed it from some of his school chums.
Laura Westmore, who was a little younger than the boys, had been invited to take a sail on the lake by a gentleman who owned a fair-sized yacht. She now came back from the trip, which had lasted for three hours.
"We had a delightful time!" she ejaculated, "and I'm as hungry as a bear. There were eight of us, and we sailed up the lake for several miles, and Mr. Felding let me handle the tiller part of the time. And what do you think? We passed a small sloop, the Vixen, from Rudd's Landing, and who do you think was on board? That big, overgrown bully, Dan Marcy."
"Dan Marcy!" cried Joe and Harry, simultaneously.