“We couldn’t, Jack,” replied his father. “We were detained in a province which was surrounded by warring Chinese factions, and we couldn’t get out, nor send any word. When we did, your mother and I decided we had had enough of traveling around the world and we started for home. We got here, after sending word to the professor that we were coming, but when we arrived we found that you had run away.”
“Did he—did he tell you what for?”
“Yes, Jack,” said Professor Klopper, coming forward awkwardly. “And I want to beg your pardon. I—I fear I was a bit hasty.”
“Then you know I didn’t steal the cup?” asked Jack rather coldly.
“No one stole it. It fell down behind my bureau, and slipped into a hole in the wall where the plaster was off. I found it not long after you had—er—left so unceremoniously, and I wished I could have found you.
“Then when I got word from your folks, and I managed to learn that you had joined a circus, I went to the performance, though I do not believe in such frivolous amusements. But I could not find you to tell you the good news. I suppose you were with some other amusement enterprise, Jack?”
“No, I saw you,” replied the boy, laughing now, “but I kept out of your way. I was afraid you wanted to arrest me.”
“Poor Jack!” whispered his mother. “You had a dreadful time!”
“Oh, not so bad,” was the answer. “I earned about three hundred dollars, and I’ve got most of it saved up.”
“Three hundred dollars, if put out at six per cent interest, and compounded, will double itself in eleven years, three hundred and twenty-seven days,” remarked the professor thoughtfully. “I would recommend that you do that with your money. In less than twelve years you would have six hundred dollars.”