Here, again, there was another difficulty. In the little country village he was not in a position to see any such notice, for they took no daily paper, and, though Mr. Mead did, his inquiry for it would excite curiosity and lead to questionings. It seemed necessary for him to go to New York. “Shall I tell mother, or not?” he asked himself. On the whole, he thought it better not to do so. So far as he was concerned, his mother was timid, and she would be anxious lest he should incur the hostility of the two lawless men of whose crime he had come into the knowledge. Yet he wanted to consult somebody, for he felt that the matter was one of no little importance, and that he needed a man’s counsel. “I’ll speak to Uncle Obed about it,” he said to himself. “He isn’t used to cities, to be sure, but he has had a long life, and must have considerable experience. At any rate, he will be better qualified than I to know what ought to be done.” He had scarcely come to this conclusion before he reached the cottage. His mother, with a troubled expression of countenance, was sitting at the table, not sewing or mending, as usual, but with her hands clasped in her lap, while near her sat Uncle Obed, also looking sober. “I am sure something has happened to Harry,” she had just been saying. “I never knew him to stay out so long without telling me.” “Boys will be boys,” answered the old man, not knowing what else to say. “He’s gone off on some lark with some of his playmates.” “But he never does that without telling me, Mr. Wilkins. He’s always so considerate.” “He’ll be coming home safe and sound, depend upon it,” said Uncle Obed, with a confidence greater than he actually felt. “Perhaps he has fallen from a tree—he was always fond of climbing—and broken his leg,” suggested Mrs. Gilbert, dolefully. “He’s too smart for that,” said Uncle Obed. “What should I do if he never came home?” exclaimed the poor woman, with a shudder. Mr. Wilkins was hardly prepared to answer this question, and, luckily, it was not necessary, for just then the latch was lifted and Harry walked in. “Didn’t I tell you so?” said Uncle Obed, triumphantly. “Oh, Harry, I’m so glad to see you! Where have you been so long?” “It’s lucky you came just as you did,” said Mr. Wilkins. “Your mother had made up her mind that you had met with an accident.” “I wanted to come home, but I couldn’t,” answered Harry. “I was in the woods.” “Lost your way?” asked Uncle Obed. “Not exactly. Two boys played a trick upon me.” Of course Harry had to explain what sort of a trick it was. Mrs. Gilbert was very indignant, and denounced Philip and his confederate in no sparing terms. “You ought to go and complain to Colonel Ross,” she said. “Philip ought not to be allowed to do such things.” Harry smiled. He had no idea of following this advice. It would have been an acknowledgment of weakness, and he felt able to defend himself against Philip Ross and his machinations.