"If he and Charlie Gibbs go to the bank now, why couldn't they have done so after father failed? They may be the ones who took father's money on that bogus check!" Amazing as this thought was, in the light of the evening's discovery it seemed plausible. But the boy was too shrewd not to know that, in order to obtain credence for such an accusation against the only millionaire within a radius of fifty miles of Baxter, it would be necessary for him to present overwhelming proof; and he dropped off to sleep, vowing to obtain the evidence. With the arrival of the mail the next morning, Fred received a letter from his father. As he recognized the handwriting, he uttered an exclamation of delight, but his pleasure quickly disappeared as he perused the contents. "Your father isn't hurt or ill?" queried Mrs. Markham, in alarm, as she noted the change of expression on her son's face. "No; he's well." "Then, what is it? Let me have the letter." "I'll read it to you," Fred compromised, for there was a part he did not wish her to see, and he realized that by reading it aloud, he could skip that portion. "My dear son," he began, "you are now old enough to understand something of the world, and to take part in life's struggles, though, I had not thought to force you so to do. Since my failure, however, money has been very scarce with us. I came to Manchester to get a position." Then followed the part Fred did not desire his mother to see. He deftly turned the page, continuing: "You must try to win the Scholarship in Science. That would bring you $200, which would help your mother. "I want you to write to me once a week. Let me know exactly how your mother is and any rumors you may hear about Charlie Gibbs. You will doubtless hear many unkind things about me, but you will know _they are false_, and circulated by my enemies. "And now, my dear son, good-by. Be considerate of your mother, help her and cheer her all you can--and never forget you are a Markham. "Your loving father, "BENJAMIN MARKHAM." "P. S.--Tell your mother I will write to her to-morrow, when I expect to have some good news." As the boy finished, he quickly folded the letter, replaced it in the envelope, put it in his pocket and picked up his school books, fearing lest his mother should ask to see it. But so absorbed was she in her thoughts, that never did such a request occur to her, until Fred was on his way to school. "My, that was a close shave," he said to himself, as, out of sight of his home, he re-read the part he had omitted: "I went to see a celebrated lawyer, Mr. Samuel Bronson, whom I wished to have represent me in the matter of the forged deed and check. When he found I had no money to pay him a large fee, however, he refused to take the case. I am sorry, because his reputation and ability would have great weight.