"I see we are not likely to agree, mother. But there is a boy coming up the walk with a letter in his hand." "It may be from Ben," said his mother, rising hastily, and going to the door. The boy was William Gordon, a school-mate of Ben's, whose disappearance, long before this time, had been reported throughout the village. "I was passing the post-office, Mrs. Brandon," he said, "when the postmaster called from the window, and asked me to bring you this letter. I think it is from Ben. The handwriting looks like his." "Oh, thank you, William," said Mrs. Brandon, joyfully. "Give it to me quick." She tore it open and read the letter, which is given at length in the last chapter. "Is it from Ben?" asked William. "Yes." "Is he in Philadelphia? I noticed it was mailed there." "Yes--no--he says he cannot tell us where he is." "I think he must be in Philadelphia, or the letter would not be mailed there." "Come in, William. I must go and tell Mary." "No, thank you, Mrs. Brandon. I am on an errand for my mother. I hope Ben is well?" "Yes, he says so." Mrs. Brandon went in, and showed the letter to her daughter. "There, I told you, mother, you need not be alarmed. He says he is earning his living." "But it seems so hard for a boy of ten to have to work for his living. What can he do?" "Oh, there are various things he can do. He might sell papers, for instance." "I think I shall go to Philadelphia to-morrow, Mary." "It won't be of any use, you may depend, mother. He is not in Philadelphia." "But this letter is posted there." "That is a proof to me that he is not there. He says he don't want to come back." Shortly after, Mr. Brandon entered the house. "We have had a letter from Ben, father," said Mary. "Show it to me," he said, briefly. He read the letter, and handed it back without a word. "What are you going to do about it, Mr. Brandon?" asked his wife. "What is there to be done?" he asked. "I think I had better go up to Philadelphia to-morrow." "What for?" "I might see him." "You would be going on a wild-goose chase." "Then why won't you go?" "It isn't worth while. If the boy doesn't want to come home, he may take care of himself if he likes it so well. I shan't run round after him." "He says he did not do what you punished him for," said Mrs. Brandon, rather deprecatingly, for she was somewhat in awe of her husband. "Of course he would say that. I have heard that before." "But I don't think he really did." "I know you have always been foolishly indulgent to him." "At any rate that cannot be said of you," said his wife, with some spirit. "No," he answered, rather surprised at such an unusual manifestation from his usually acquiescent wife; "you are right there, and you might add that I don't mean to be, if he should return." "I think he would have come home but for that advertisement. You see what he says about it in his letter."