Marian and I told our story as I have already related it, and we had an attentive and interested audience. "But what has become of Waterford?" asked one of the officers. "If he was left at the creek, he must have gone somewhere." "He won't go far, for he has not a hundred dollars in the world," said Mr. Whippleton. "Phil defeated all our plans." All the party looked at me so earnestly that I am afraid I blushed; for, conceited as I am, it disturbs me to be made a hero. "What were your plans, Mr. Whippleton?" asked Mr. Collingsby. "I suppose I have nothing to gain by concealment," replied the culprit. "If I had never seen Waterford, I might have been an honest man to-day. I went into some land speculations with him. We bought two hundred acres at Bloomvale, confident that the new Blank and Plank Railroad would pass through the centre of it, for it was one of the routes surveyed, and we had an assurance that it would be the one adopted. Instead of coming direct to the city, as we were almost certain it would, they tapped the North Central, and left our land ten miles from any road, and good for nothing but farming purposes. We spent ten thousand dollars in log-rolling in the legislature, and were defeated in the end. I took forty thousand dollars out of the funds of the firm, which I intended to replace when I sold my land. Phil's trial balance first frightened me, and finding that I could not get out of the scrape, I decided to take what money I could get, and go to China, where I hoped to win a fortune, and make good my losses here. I had started for Europe when I left in the Florina, and should have got off if Phil had not followed me." I was a hero in spite of myself. CHAPTER XXVIII. IN WHICH PHIL MORALIZES UPON WORLDLY WISDOM, AND BIDS FAREWELL TO DESK AND DEBIT. The conference was interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Collingsby, senior, who had been sent for. He gave his granddaughter a very cordial greeting, and the events which had transpired were all rehearsed for his benefit. "How did you expect to get away in your yacht?" asked the senior partner. "Waterford was to go with me. A friend in St. Joseph had offered me a thousand dollars for my boat, and I expected to sell her to him. We then intended to sail through the lakes to Collingwood, and proceed to Montreal. Waterford was to have made Marian his wife at St. Joseph." "The scoundrel!" ejaculated the father. "He was to return, make his peace with you, and save me from harm. We should have succeeded if Phil had not been so zealous to serve the firm. He upset my calculations no less than three times, and finally broke my head. You have no fault to find with him, Mr. Collingsby, however it may be with me." "Mr. Philips, I trust you will excuse any harsh words I may have used," said the senior partner. "Certainly, sir; but my name is not Philips." "What is it?" "Philip Farringford, sir." "Yes, father, and he is my own cousin," added Marian.