It was noon, Christmas Day, when Austin stepped from the train at the watering-station just outside his old home village. Oh, the joy of familiar sights! He felt as if he should like to stoop and kiss the very earth under his feet, he was so glad to be at home again. He had not gone far till he saw familiar faces, but he did not stop, though all were glad to see him back again. His one thought was to see once more his beloved uncle. He hurried on, swinging his suitcase in his hand. For some reason it seemed much lighter than at other stages in his journey. He could hardly keep his feet on the ground, so light was his heart as he sped along.

At last the old farmhouse came in sight, and about the door were his cousins, who were wondering if Austin could have come on that train. They were expecting him any time and had a hearty welcome for him when he did come. Aunt Tillie had the Christmas dinner just ready to sit down to when the glad cry of the children announced Austin’s arrival. All of them were at home that day to celebrate their last Christmas in the old house, for their father had sold the homestead and they were to move the coming week. It was with joy that the extra plate was laid for the wanderer.

“Well, well, Austin! you are here at last! I suppose you thought we never intended to answer your letter,” said Uncle John laughing.

“I could not help wondering why you waited so long,” answered Austin reproachfully, for he still felt grieved at his uncle’s neglect.

“Look at this and tell me if you wonder that I did not answer it,” said Uncle John bringing out the card Austin had written him from Captain Albright’s home three weeks before. To Austin’s surprize it was unsigned.

“How was I to know who wrote this?” asked his uncle with twinkling eyes, “you will have to sign your name if you want money from me.”

“I do not see how I came to do anything like that,” said Austin, abashed at his mistake.

“We never suspected you, and after talking it over at the supper-table we all came to the conclusion that the card was from Wilbur, and that he had gotten into some trouble and wanted help. He is so trifling that I decided to let him fight his own battles, so paid no more attention to the matter,” explained his uncle.

“I felt sorry for the poor fellow so after a week or more wrote the letter you received,” said Frank, laughing.

“Then your answer came back to us all signed as it should be, but I thought it was Will trying to trick me further, so still did nothing. In fact, I had about forgotten the incident when a letter came from Amy telling us you had left home. Then we knew the S. O. S. was your call and waked immediately. That is why there was the long silence then the ticket by telegram. We were afraid you had given up hearing from us and left that place.”

When Uncle John had finished his explanation, all that had been dark to Austin cleared away, and he laughed with the rest at the queer mix-up. It relieved him to know that after all his uncle had not purposely neglected him.

And that dinner! Was there ever another feast as good as this one? It was indeed a table to tempt an appetite under any circumstances, and to Austin, who had absolute peace of mind for the first time in weeks, it seemed more delicious than could be expressed.

But before he had finished his dinner, thoughts of the little ones at home and the Christmas dinner cooked by inexperienced hands came into his view, and his own good fortune almost choked him. If only they, too, could have eaten with Aunt Tillie! And he remembered, also, that only last Christmas Mother was with them, and tears sprang to his eyes. How much had happened in that year!

When the others had gone about their own affairs, John Moore took his young nephew and had a long talk with him. Austin was free to tell him all that had happened and why he had left home. Mr. Moore could understand how Henry Hill had treated the boy, for he too had received evil for good at his hands. He was sorry for the little ones, but hoped the sight of their needs would waken the chords of real manhood which once stirred the heart of his brother-in-law.

“Austin, I am pained at all you tell me and am sorry that it is going so ill with dear Elizabeth’s children, but I can not see it our duty to bear your father’s burdens. You are welcome here with us. To me you are like one of my own sons, and I want you to feel as the weeks go by that you are at home. I shall do by you just as I do by them.”

Tears filled Austin’s eyes at the kindness of his uncle, but the stinging words of his father rang in his ears, “You could not exist a month on your own resources,” and he was determined to make his own way and prove to him that he could do for himself.

“No, Uncle John, I can not do that, though I appreciate your offer. I did not come here to live off your money, but I want to find work and support myself. I am strong enough to do it, and now that I have no care of the children I can do it I am certain.”

“But, Austin, a boy like you should be in school. You are not yet fifteen, and for a year you have not been in school to speak of. You can stay right here and go every day,” urged Mr. Moore.

“No, Uncle, I do not want to do that now. I am almost out of clothing. All I possess is in that suitcase, and I need to earn something for myself right away. Besides, Papa said I could not look out for myself.” persisted Austin.

“Humph! Well, if that is what is on your mind, I do not blame you for going to work. Prove that you can take care of yourself and after that look out for other things,” said Mr. Moore in hearty sympathy with the boy for resenting his father’s taunt.

“I wish none of you would write anything home about me. I do not want Papa to know where I am nor one thing about my affairs.”

“All right; I will inform the others of your wish. It will be hard on the children, but as for Henry, he ought to do a little worrying.”

The next week was a busy one for the Moore household, and Austin helped them with their moving, staying with them till the hard work was over, and then found himself a place. This was not hard, for he was well known and universally liked. Those who would hire him knew him to be reliable beyond his years. The wages he received were small, pitifully so, but they were sufficient to again clothe him suitably, and to give him that feeling of independence and self-respect that is good for any boy.

Though he was satisfied with his present lot so far as his own self was concerned, his mind was never at rest about the children. In spirit he lived constantly with them, and was ever longing to return to them and bear their burdens. Not once did he contemplate entirely forsaking them. He believed the cloud which now overshadowed him and them would pass away and he again be welcome under the home roof. He built great air-castles of the time when he should become rich and return and care for them. But he could not overcome the feeling of repugnance toward his father, nor did he really try to do so.

When Austin had again fitted himself with a suitable wardrobe, he remembered his uncle’s advice about going to school. Spring was at hand now, and the country-school term at a close, so he could do nothing for the present. But when Mr. Coles, a neighbor of his uncle’s, offered him a place for the summer at reasonable wages with the understanding that when the summer was over he might remain with him and attend school the coming winter, Austin thought it wise to accept the offer, though the wages were considerably less than he could have gotten elsewhere. He thought that the lesser wage which Mr. Coles paid him would make his board right for the coming winter, and he did not wish to get something for nothing.

So Austin all through the hot summer months worked away on the farm, of Mr. Coles, doing anything and everything there was to be done. He plowed and sowed and reaped, milked, and fed the calves and pigs, and worked in the garden and orchard. Mr. Coles had a willing hand all the summer through.