Where? He could not pretend to imagine, as he thought of the roundabout ramble he had taken. He got up early the next morning, and carefully hunted over every step of the ground, but all in vain. It would have been well if he had gone at once to his mother, and confessed what he had done; but he delayed, still cherishing a hope of finding what he had lost, and the longer he waited, the more impossible it became to tell. He remembered that a boy had once said to him, "A sneak is sure to be a coward." More than a week after this, Peter was sitting on the piazza one evening after tea, reading to his mother, when his friend of the creek expedition came in. "Here is a card I found, addressed to you, Mrs. Keens," he said. "It must be the one you were hunting for last week, Pete." She took it in some surprise, failing to observe the color which mounted to Peter's face as he saw it. As she read it, a troubled expression overspread her own. "Ten days old, this card," she exclaimed. "'Wednesday, the 14th'--what does it mean, Peter?" She passed it to him, and he read as follows: "_July_ 3. "MY DEAR RUTH,--I write to give you ample notice of a change in our plans in consequence of Robert's partner desiring to take a trip late in the season, obliging us to go early. So Robert, having finished his business in Canada, is to meet us on Wednesday, the 14th, at Plattsburg. Shall stop for Peter on the evening of the 13th. Please have him ready. "KATHERINE." This was the 13th. Peter stared at his mother in dismay. "I do not quite understand yet," she said. "Where did you get this card, Philip?" "I found it just now in the arbor where I have my museum; it had slipped behind a box. You lost it the day we played there, didn't you, Pete?" "How came you to have it there, Peter?" "I--it was in my pocket, ma'am, and I dropped it, I suppose." "_Why_ was it in your pocket? Why didn't you bring it to me?" "I wanted--I was just going to read it." Phil touched his hat, and quietly took his departure. Mrs. Keens said no more, but looked again at the dates on the card. At this moment a hack drove up, from which issued a most astonishing outpouring of noisy, laughing, chattering blue-flannelled boys, followed by a mother who looked just merry enough to be commander of such a merry crew. "Hurrah! Hurrah! Pete, we're off! All ready? We can only stay two hours." "Such a tent--_big_, striped, and a flag to it; and--" "Father's going to let us boys shoot with a gun." "_Isn't_ it jolly to have two weeks less to wait?" Peter did not look at all jolly, as through his half-bewildered mind struggled a dim perception of the dire evil the loss of that card might have worked for him. When the clamor of greeting and questioning had somewhat subsided, Mrs. Keens said, slowly: