"I shouldn't think your father was a man
to inflict such a punishment."

"It wasn't he--it was my stepmother.  She
insisted upon it, and he yielded.  I heard afterwards
from one of the servants that he wanted
me released at the end of twenty-four hours,
but she would not consent."

"How long ago was this?"

"It happened when I was twelve."

"Was it ever repeated?"

"Yes, a month later; but the punishment
lasted only for two days."

"And you submitted to it?"

"I had to, but as soon as I was released I
gave Peter such a flogging, with the promise
to repeat it, if I was ever punished in that
manner again, that the boy himself was panic-
stricken, and objected to my being imprisoned again."

"He must be a charming fellow!"

"You would think so if you should see him.
He has small, insignificant features, a turn-
up nose, and an ugly scowl that appears whenever
he is out of humor."

"And yet your father likes him?"

"I don't think he does, though Peter, by his
mother's orders, pays all sorts of small attentions--
bringing him his slippers, running on
errands, and so on, not because he likes it, but
because he wants to supplant me, as he has
succeeded in doing."

"You have finally broken away, then?"

"Yes; I couldn't stand it any longer.  Home
had become intolerable."

"Pardon the question, but hasn't your father
got considerable property?"

"I have every reason to think so."

"Won't your leaving home give your step-
mother and Peter the inside track, and lead,
perhaps, to your disinheritance?"

"I suppose so," answered Carl, wearily; "but
no matter what happens, I can't bear to stay
at home any longer."

"You're badly fixed--that's a fact!" said
Gilbert, in a tone of sympathy.  "What are
your plans?"

"I don't know.  I haven't had time to think."

CHAPTER II.

A FRIEND WORTH HAVING.

Gilbert wrinkled up his forehead and set
about trying to form some plans for Carl.

"It will be hard for you to support yourself,"
he said, after a pause; "that is, without help."

"There is no one to help me.  I expect no help."

"I thought your father might be induced to
give you an allowance, so that with what you
can earn, you may get along comfortably."

"I think father would be willing to do this,
but my stepmother would prevent him."

"Then she has a great deal of influence over him?"

"Yes, she can twist him round her little finger."

"I can't understand it."

"You see, father is an invalid, and is very
nervous.  If he were in perfect health he would
have more force of character and firmness.  He
is under the impression that he has heart disease,
and it makes him timid and vacillating."

"Still he ought to do something for you."

"I suppose he ought.  Still, Gilbert, I think
I can earn my living."

"What can you do?"

"Well, I have a fair education.  I could be
an entry clerk, or a salesman in some store,
or, if the worst came to the worst, I could work
on a farm.  I believe farmers give boys who
work for them their board and clothes."

"I don't think the clothes would suit you."

"I am pretty well supplied with clothing."

Gilbert looked significantly at the gripsack.

"Do you carry it all in there?" he asked, doubtfully.

Carl laughed.

"Well, no," he answered.  "I have a trunkful
of clothes at home, though."

"Why didn't you bring them with you?"

"I would if I were an elephant.  Being only
a boy, I would find it burdensome carrying a
trunk with me.  The gripsack is all I can very
well manage."

"I tell you what," said Gilbert.  "Come
round to our house and stay overnight.  We
live only a mile from here, you know.  The
folks will be glad to see you, and while you
are there I will go to your house, see the
governor, and arrange for an allowance for you
that will make you comparatively independent."

"Thank you, Gilbert; but I don't feel like
asking favors from those who have ill-treated me."

"Nor would I--of strangers; but Dr. Crawford
is your father.  It isn't right that Peter,
your stepbrother, should be supported in ease
and luxury, while you, the real son, should
be subjected to privation and want."

"I don't know but you are right," admitted
Carl, slowly.

"Of course I am right.  Now, will you make
me your minister plenipotentiary, armed with
full powers?"

"Yes, I believe I will."

"That's right.  That shows you are a boy
of sense.  Now, as you are subject to my
directions, just get on that bicycle and I will
carry your gripsack, and we will seek Vance
Villa, as we call it when we want to be high-
toned, by the most direct route."

"No, no, Gilbert; I will carry my own
gripsack.  I won't burden you with it," said Carl,
rising from his recumbent position.

"Look here, Carl, how far have you walked
with it this morning?"

"About twelve miles."

"Then, of course, you're tired, and require
rest.  Just jump on that bicycle, and I'll take
the gripsack.  If you have carried it twelve
miles, I can surely carry it one."

"You are very kind, Gilbert."

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"But it is imposing up on your good nature."

But Gilbert had turned his head in a backward
direction, and nodded in a satisfied way
as he saw a light, open buggy rapidly approaching.

"There's my sister in that carriage," he said.
"She comes in good time.  I will put you and
your gripsack in with her, and I'll take to my
bicycle again."

"Your sister may not like such an arrangement."

"Won't she though!  She's very fond of
beaux, and she will receive you very graciously."

"You make me feel bashful, Gilbert."

"You won't be long.  Julia will chat away