When Grit returned he found his mother naturally curious to know where he had been and on what errand.

"I should like to tell you everything, mother," he said, "but it may not be prudent just yet."

"It's nothing wrong, I hope, Grit?"

"You may be sure of that, mother; I wouldn't engage in anything that I thought wrong. I feel justified in telling you confidentially that I was sent by Mr. Graves."

"What! the president of the bank?"

"Yes."

"Then it's all right," said Mrs. Brandon, with an air of relief.

"My time wasn't wasted, mother," said Grit cheerfully, as he displayed a ten-dollar note, new and crisp, which Mr. Graves had given him, besides paying the expenses of his trip. "I've only been gone two days, and ten dollars will pay me very well. It's better than boating, at any rate."

"Yes, but it isn't a steady employment."

"No; don't suppose I have any idea of giving up boating, because I have been paid five dollars a day for my trip. It's a help, though."

"Did you see anything of Mr. Brandon while you were gone?" asked his mother apprehensively.

"No, mother. I can't say I was disappointed, either."

"When he went away he spoke mysteriously of some good fortune that was coming to him. He expected to earn a large sum of money, and talked of going to Europe."

"He is welcome to do so," said Grit, smiling. "I hope he will, and then we can resume our old life. I tell you, mother, I feel more sure than ever of getting along. I am certain I can earn considerably more next year than I have ever done before," and the boy's cheeks glowed and his eyes sparkled with cheerful hope.

"I am sure you deserve to, Grit, for you've always been a good son."

"I ought to be, for I've got a good mother," said the boy, with a glance of affection at his mother.

"He pays me for all," thought Mrs. Brandon, as she watched with pride and a mother's love the form of her boy as he walked down to the river. "As long as he lives, I have reason to be grateful to God. Mr. Brandon is a heavy cross to me, but I can bear it while I have Grit."

Mr. Brandon, however, did not show himself. He was at Portland, subject to the orders of Colonel Johnson, who thought it not prudent that he or Travers should return just at present, lest, under the influence of liquor, they might become talkative and betray more than he desired.

It was at this point that he learned from Ephraim Carver that Grit had been sent to Boston in the place of the regular bank messenger.

"It looks as if somebody suspected something," he reflected anxiously. "Is it possible that any part of our plan has leaked out? And if so, how? Then why should a boy like that be selected for so responsible a duty? He must have had some agency in the discovery. Ha! I have it! He is the stepson of this Brandon. I must question Brandon."

"Brandon," he said abruptly, summoning that worthy to his presence, "you have a son named Grit, have you not?"

"Yes—curse the brat!" answered Brandon, in a tone by no means paternal.

"What kind of a boy is he?"

"Impudent and undutiful," said Brandon. "He doesn't treat me with any kind of respect."

"I don't blame him for that," thought Johnson, surveying his instrument with a glance that did not indicate the highest esteem.

"Did you tell him anything of our plans?" he asked searchingly.

"Tell him! He's the last person I'd tell!" returned Brandon, with emphasis.

"He didn't overhear you and Travers speaking of the matter, did he?"

"Certainly not. What makes you ask me that, colonel?"

"Because it was he who carried the genuine package of bonds to Boston—that's all."

"Grit—carried—the bonds!" Brandon ejaculated, in amazement.

"Yes."

"How did you find out?"

"Carver found out. I have just had a despatch from him."

"Well, that beats me!" muttered Brandon. "I can't understand it at all."

"It looks as if Carver were distrusted. I shall find out presently. In the meanwhile, I must see that boy of yours."

"I'll go and bring him here," said Brandon.

"Don't trouble yourself. I can manage the matter better by myself. I shall go to Boston this afternoon."

"Are Travers and I to go, too?"

"No; you can stay here. I'll direct you to a cheap boarding-house, where you can await my orders. I may take Travers with me."

This arrangement did not suit Brandon very well, though it might had he been entrusted with a liberal sum of money. But Colonel Johnson, having lost the valuable prize for which he had striven, was in no mood to be generous. He agreed to be responsible for Brandon's board, but only gave him two dollars for outside expenses, thus enforcing a degree of temperance which was very disagreeable to Brandon.