Mr. Conover looked at her in astonishment, slowly rubbing his smooth-shaven head. "I--Mrs. Scott," he said, with earnestness, "I don't want to take the money. I begin to see how it is; I see you're right. To tell the truth, I was afraid I'd been a little hard on the boy. I knew that young cur of a Freeman was to blame for it, and I was sorry on the girl's account and all; but I was hasty, I suppose. I shouldn't have done anything, though, about taking him back; but now that you've made me see it plainer yet, and if he's in such a bad fix as all that, why, I'll give him another chance," said the young man. "But never mind the money; I'll try him." "Keep it," Mrs. Scott answered, "and if he does not do his best, it is forfeited. I think he will." Poor Collin! Perhaps in all the course of his troubles he had known no sharper moment than that. He looked around the group. Several of the stable-hands had gathered, Sim Miles, with a broadly smiling face, being among them. The tears sprung to Collin's honest blue eyes. Nor was he ashamed of them. "I _will_ do my best," was all he could say. "All right; come around to-morrow, Spencer," said Mr. Conover, bluffly, seeing that the scene threatened to be rather a moving one, and he went back to his business. CHAPTER XX. An Important Letter. His visitors turned away. Rosalie, whose triumph was supreme, could not wholly control herself. She gave an occasional hop as they went. Trudy's face shone, and her eyes were starry. As for Collin, he felt that silence was best. "Go and tell your mother, Collin," Trudy whispered. "You won't be afraid to see her _now_." "I'm going there," Collin answered--they stood at the corner of his street. "I'll go; and all I can say is, that I shan't ever forget what you've all done for me. You've saved me--that's what. I don't know what would have become of me. And you'll never be sorry for it." And, choking somewhat, Collin Spencer turned down the street to his mother's home. It seemed to Trudy that it was the strangest piece of good fortune in the world which had taken place. After all the dark worry her true young heart had known, she could hardly believe it. And yet a stranger thing was to happen then and there. As they walked on, Trudy's eyes turned down the street and fixed themselves upon a figure coming rapidly towards them, or as rapidly as was possible. The figure, which was small and bent in the shoulders, limped. Rosalie saw it at the same instant. "See! who is that?" she asked, in wonder. "It's Ichabod," said Trudy--"why, it's Ichabod! And I left him sick abed. Whatever is the matter?" Ichabod came hurriedly limping on. It became plain that he had seen them and was hastening to reach them; and Trudy ran forward. "Why, Ichabod," she cried, in remonstrance, "if you didn't get up! Were you able? No; see how tired you are!"