“What did they say about it?” asked Bert, as soon as he had a chance to speak to his brother privately. “They didn’t say much,” was the reply. “Clarence must go home, and that I think will end the matter.” “Perhaps he is on his way home already,” said Bert. “I know I should start at once if I were in his place. I couldn’t face anybody after an act like that.” “That is because you have never been guilty of a mean act in your life,” said Don. “One gets hardened to such things after a while. I know it by my experience at school. Probably Clarence has been in more scrapes than you and I ever dreamed of.” That was not only very probable, but very true; but still he was not sufficiently hardened to face the consequences of this, which was one of the worst scrapes he had ever been in. Half an hour later, Don’s pony came home riderless. The hostler told the general that he came from toward the landing, and that he had seen Clarence going that way a short time before. Upon hearing this, the general set out at once for Rochdale, where he learned from some of the hangers-on that his nephew had been seen to board the Emma Deane, and as he had not come off again he must have gone up the river on her. This being the case, there was nothing to be done now but to communicate with his father and await developments. A few weeks cleared up everything. Clarence had reached his father’s house in safety, and the same letter that brought the information, contained also a sum of money sufficient to defray Marshall’s expenses to his home. The boy seemed glad to go, and his cousins rarely heard from him afterward.