Mrs. Gordon, in her humble home in Hamilton, was engaged in sewing toward the close of the afternoon. Her face wore an anxious look, for she had not heard from Andy for a longer time than usual. He had written, but the letter had not come to hand.

“I am afraid Andy is sick,” she said to herself. “How long it seems since I last saw him! He is my all, and if anything should happen to him, I don’t know what would become of me.”

Just then in came Miss Susan Peabody, who had always been attached to Mrs. Gordon.

“Well, Mrs. Gordon, and what do you hear from Andy?” she asked.

“Nothing,” answered the widow, sadly. “I have not had a letter for nearly a fortnight.”

“I heard something to-day that made me very angry,” said Miss Susan.

“About Andy?” asked Mrs. Gordon, looking up.

“Yes, about Andy. It’s scandalous!”

“You make me nervous,” said the widow. “Tell me what it is, my good friend.”

“As far as I can judge, it’s a rumor set afloat by Herbert Ross, who never liked Andy. He claims to have seen a paragraph—now you mustn’t mind it, for of course it’s a falsehood—implicating Andy in some crime—stealing, I believe.”

“It’s a base falsehood!” said Mrs. Gordon, her pale face flushing with justifiable anger.

“Of course it is; and I wouldn’t have spoken of it if the report had not obtained considerable currency. Don’t let it trouble you!”

“I won’t!” said Mrs. Gordon, with spirit. “It only shows the malice and meanness of the person who set it afloat.”

“I suppose one reason for such rumor is, that people are very curious to learn where Andy has gone.”

“Very likely. My anxiety is not at all about Andy’s behavior, but about his health. If I were only sure that he was well, I would feel perfectly unconcerned.”

“That is right, Mrs. Gordon. You look at matters in the right light. I was always very much attached to Andy, as I may some time show. Not many boys would have defended my house and money as bravely as Andy did.”

“He was always a good boy. I have never had reason to feel ashamed of him,” said the mother, proudly.

Just then there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Gordon rose and opened it. To her surprise she saw before her the tall, dignified figure of Rev. Dr. Euclid, who the reader will remember was the preceptor of the Hamilton Academy.

Mrs. Gordon had a high respect for Dr. Euclid, and welcomed him cordially.

“I am glad to see you, Dr. Euclid,” said she. “Won’t you come in?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gordon; I will come in for five minutes, but I cannot tarry long. When did you hear from your son, Andy?”

“Not for two weeks—or nearly two weeks.”

“He was well?” questioned the doctor.

“Quite well, then; but I am feeling somewhat anxious about him now, on account of the delay of letters.”

“Don’t let that trouble you. Letters often miscarry.”

“I understand,” said Mrs. Gordon, “that some malicious person is spreading slanderous reports about Andy. Have you heard anything of the kind, Dr. Euclid?”

“Yes, Mrs. Gordon; but I did not give one moment’s credence to them.”

“Can you tell me anything about the nature of the reports?”

“It appears that in some paper was published a paragraph touching a certain Andrew Gordon, who was charged with stealing a sum of money from his employer, but it was expressly stated that he was twenty-five years of age. Andy has ill-wishers, however, who, overlooking this circumstance, have been glad to report that he was in trouble.”

“It is contemptible!” said Miss Susan Peabody, warmly.

“So it is, my dear Miss Peabody,” said Dr. Euclid. “Andy was my favorite pupil, and I will stake my own reputation on his honor and honesty.”

“Who is most active in circulating this report?” asked the widow.

“I suspect my pupil, Herbert Ross, who never liked your son, has been active in the matter. He is a selfish, purse-proud idle boy, and Andy is worth half a dozen of him.”

“Who is speaking so well of Andy?” asked a young, fresh voice, the sound of which startled all three.

Immediately the door was thrown open, and Andy himself, closely followed by a weak, old man, entered the room.

“Andy, my dear boy!” exclaimed his mother, and folded him with inexpressible joy, in her arms.

“Mother, this is Uncle Simon Dodge,” said our hero, when the first greeting was over. “Won’t you give him a welcome?”

“Uncle Simon,” said Mrs. Gordon, cordially, “I am glad to see you. If you are willing to share our humble home you may consider yourself now at home.”

“It is my strongest wish,” said the old man, with beaming face.

Here Andy introduced his uncle to Miss Peabody and Dr. Euclid, who gave him a friendly greeting, and expressed a wish to know him better.

“It is well you have come, Andy,” said Miss Peabody, “to quiet the reports that are circulating about you.”

“What are they?” asked Andy.

“It is said you have stolen a large sum of money, and I presume you are supposed to be in jail.”

“Then I’ll show myself in the village this evening,” said Andy, laughing, “to satisfy my good friends that there’s a mistake. Was Herbert Ross very sorry to hear it?”

“I believe he has been one of the most active in spreading the report.”

“Poor Herbert! How disappointed he will be!” said Andy, laughing good-naturedly.