As she would not take no for an answer, and Mr. Howlitt joined his invitation with his daughter’s, Larry could do no better than to accept. On the way home he showed his innate honesty by confessing to all he knew of the matter of the speech, which did not throw much light on the situation, though, to his joy, neither Mr. Howlitt nor Lucy blamed him. “You say the last part was original with you?” said Lucy. “I think that was altogether the best, and I am proud of you, Lawrence.” “Pluto Snyder is a silly coxcomb,” said her father, “and I am glad if he has been taken down a notch.” The next day Job Westcott acknowledged that he had caused young Snyder to miss coming to the celebration in season to address the meeting, and that his coming at all was simply because the one left in charge of Pluto had been bought off by the irate “orator.” “I’ll l’arn him how to use offensive stuff to me. I jess paid off an old debt, and Larry weren’t a whit to blame. But, by gum! didn’t he hum with madness! I tell ye, ye never see what it is for one to be mad till ye hev seen a fool lose his temper.” Though the Howlitts were disposed to blame Job for the part he had taken, Larry rose in their estimation, and another’s loss was his gain. A little later Larry forgot all about his recent triumph by hearing of the fate which had befallen his sister, and he lost no time in going home to learn the whole truth. CHAPTER XXVI. FROM BAD TO WORSE. The arrest of Mary Little for theft at Deacon Cornhill’s was a bitter blow to her friends, none of whom could believe her guilty. Rob lost no time in going to the Cornhill home, hoping that he could enlist the folks in her favor, or, at least, get at the truth of the matter. But he found Mrs. Cornhill fully convinced of Mary’s guilt, and severely blaming herself that she had ever let the “idle hussy into the house.” It was in vain that Rob pleaded that Mary had been a faithful servant. The fact remained that Mrs. Cornhill had been missing article after article from the household ever since the girl had come to work for her. She had not spoken of this at first, as she had been so favorably impressed by her that she had hesitated about accusing her of such misdoings. Finally, after watching and waiting for weeks, she had felt obliged to act in the matter. Deacon Cornhill was now so far recovered from his recent illness as to sit up in his great easy-chair, though he was but a shadow of his former genial self. “Don’t be hard on the gal, Mandy,” he said, compassionately. “No doubt she was driven to it. The articles were not worth very----” “Tweren’t the wurth, but the principle in it,” snapped his wife. “Arter the way I treated her, to hev the idle hussy turn on us just at this time of all others,” and the good woman fell to crying. “Don’t break down, Mandy,” said he, but his own voice was husky and Rob was sure there were tears in his eyes.