Perce had known very well that some such question must come, and he had been dreading it. He had tried to think what he should reply; but now he could only stammer: “Yes;—that is, no;—the Elder boys had just gone off with a load of seaweed, and I was waiting for them to come back with the cart.” “How far away were they? out of sight?” continued Mr. Hatville. “No, not exactly. We were hauling the kelp into piles, just above high water;” explained Perce. “Oh, yes! They were near you, then,” said Mr. Hatville, who had observed the heaps of seaweed on the shore. “So they’ll know all about it. Let me hear your story first; then I will hear theirs. Just how it was found, you understand.” “It will be of no use for you to ask them,” said Perce. “How so?” replied Mr. Hatville, with another of his sarcastic, incredulous smiles. “They didn’t know anything about it,” Perce acknowledged miserably. “So you mean to say that you found a valuable gold watch on the beach, and said nothing about it to your friends, who must have been within sight and hearing at the time? That’s a likely story!” “I don’t wonder you think so,” said Perce in deep distress. “But I’ll tell you why I didn’t. We had gone into partnership for getting kelp and driftwood, and had made an agreement that we were to divide, half and half, everything we found—half for me and the team, which is my father’s, and half for them. Then, you see, when I found the watch, I was afraid they might claim a share in it, provided the owner didn’t turn up.” “Very ingenious!” was Mr. Hatville’s skeptical comment. “You may believe it or not; it’s true!” exclaimed Perce, in a broken and agitated voice. “I did a mean thing; and for that reason I’d rather you shouldn’t say anything to the Elder boys about it. But I suppose they will have to know it. I suppose everybody will have to know it!” And here his voice failed completely. “I suppose the particulars will have to be known to several persons before we get through with this little business,” Mr. Hatville replied. “Have you anything more to say for yourself?” The boy had nothing more to say, except to describe more particularly how he took the watch out of the dripping seaweed, and to protest again his innocence of any dishonest purpose; all of which, however, did not seem to make much impression upon Mr. Hatville. They walked on in silence down the sandy road, Perce as deeply wretched as if he had been already on his way to the lock-up. Even if he were spared that last humiliation, he felt that his good name was gone forever. The taking of the watch might not be publicly proved against him; but, unless the mystery of its disappearance from the owner’s room, and its re-appearance in the wave-tossed kelp on the shore—unless that could be explained, who would believe him guiltless? The suspicion might cling to him through life. What would his father say? And how it would grieve his dear mother!