Mr. Ford's voice faltered a little as he went on. After all, he loved Will very much, and he knew that it was only the spirit of a proud boy that was keeping him away from home.
"Are you going to let him stay, Daddy?" asked Grace again.
"No, Grace, I think I'll write to him to come home," replied Mr. Ford. "I think this has been a lesson to him. He gives his prospective Jacksonville address in this note. I'll just send him a wire."
Going to the telephone, Mr. Ford dictated this brief telegram to his son.
"Come home. All is forgiven."
"It's like one of those advertisements you see in the newspapers," said Grace, with a little laugh.
She was much relieved now, and so were her chums. They could think with more pleasure of the prospective trip to Florida.
"But if Will left you a week ago, Uncle Isaac, I don't see why this letter has only now arrived," spoke Grace. "When is it postmarked, father?"
"It reached Deepdale to-day, but it was mailed in—let me see—why, I can't make out the other mark, nor the date either."
"Let me try," suggested Uncle Isaac, putting on his glasses. But he had no better luck.