“Jim!” almost screamed Mrs. Bronson, Springing forward to throw her arms around his neck. “You? Here?--O, my boy! My boy! I’m so glad! What would your mother say, if she were alive!--They didn’t catch you, did they?” “No, Aunt Betty,” said Jim. “This is Rodney Nelson. He isn’t one of the House of Refuge boys. He and his folks helped me. I’ll tell you all about it----” “Not now!--Not now!” she said, excitedly. “O dear! What shall I do with you! What shall I say to your uncle? It’s awful!” “I’d say it was!” suddenly broke in a deep, strong voice in the doorway. “Worst thing could ha’ happened to me! Mrs. Bronson, I just don’t want to know it’s Jim. Wish I hadn’t happened to come----” “Why, Squire,” she said, “it is Jim, and he’s got away from all of ’em.” “I don’t want to do any such duty,” groaned the Squire. “It’s hard on me to have to take him. I knew his father and his mother.--Wish I wasn’t a justice-peace! Who cares what he stole!--That money----” “That money----” came like an echo, from a voice that was drawing nearer, in the next room. “John!” shouted Aunt Betty. “You won’t have the Squire take Jim?” “O, Betty!” exclaimed Uncle John. “Why, Squire, I don’t know what to say. It’s awful!--Tell you what.--I can’t, but I must.--Jim never stole a cent.--Betty, do you mind those old, blue jeans overalls?--I had ’em on, that day. When the money was missed, I was so torn up by it, I didn’t remember where I’d put ’em. I found ’em, hangin’ up in the barn, three days ago, and there was the fifty dollars, in one o’ the pockets. I was most sick. O, Jim, I’m a poor, old, miserable sinner! I’m glad you got out----” “Thank God!” ejaculated the Squire. “I haven’t got to do it! Hurrah!” “Hurrah!” shouted Rodney, but Jim could not have said a word, if he had tried, for Aunt Betty was almost choking him. “It’s all right, Bronson,” said the Squire. “I’ll telegraph to the New York authorities. ’Twon’t really hurt Jim, in the long run. I’m going----” “I’ll go, too,” said Rodney. “I want to send word to our folks.” “Come right back, Rodney,” said Jim. “I will,” said Rodney, but he was hurrying away with the Squire and one of the consequences was that when, just before supper time, Mr. and Mrs. Kirby came over to the Nelson store to ask if there was any news, a telegraph messenger went in with them. “Read it aloud! What is it?” exclaimed Mrs. Kirby. “Is it from Rod?” “O, do hear!” said Mrs. Kirby, and she read: “Mother. We got here. They found the money. Jim’s all right. He didn’t do it. Tell Millie. Tell everybody.” “Whoop!” shouted Mr. Kirby, but his wife was reaching out after the telegram that Mrs. Nelson was waving, like a flag, and Millie was dancing. “Ba-a-a-beh!” remarked a bearded friend of the family, in the doorway.