“Poor dad! I guess I’d better give up school and go back to Lawrenceburgh,” announced the boy. “If Elmer and Pud ever hear about it, they’ll make my life unbearable; and besides, it isn’t right for me to be such a drain on father.”
“You won’t be a drain on him. You mustn’t look at it that way!” exclaimed his aunt. “You know you are just as dear to me as though you were my own son, and I want you to stay with me now.”
“But somebody ought to go down to Lawrenceburgh. It can’t be true. There’s something wrong somewhere.”
“Somebody is going down to Lawrenceburgh!” announced a shrill voice.
And looking up, Mrs. Watson and her nephew beheld the kindly face of old Jed Brown, whose usual happy smile had given way to an expression of solemnity.
“What do you mean?” asked Mrs. Watson.
“That I’m going down to Lawrenceburgh for a few days. I’ve been wanting to go for a long time. Just been looking for an excuse and now I’ve got it. I’ve known Amos since he was a kid in knickerbockers, and I know there isn’t a mean or crooked hair in his head. It’s all a mistake—and and I’m going to set it right.”
“Oh, Mr. Brown! If you only could!” exclaimed the widow, as the old veteran ceased speaking.
“And I can. Don’t worry,” he returned. “It may take some time, but I shall find out who’s at the bottom of it, and even if Jed Brown is a cripple and poor, he is honest, and he can fight just as in the days when he followed the flag through the campaign in the Wilderness.”