Chapter XIX. Ebenezer Graham's Grief

"How much have you lost by your son, Mr. Graham?" asked George Melville.

"Nearly two hundred and fifty dollars," groaned Ebenezer, "counting what I paid in the city to his creditors, it is terrible, terrible!" and he wrung his hands in his bitterness of spirit.

"I am sorry for you," said Melville, "and still more for him."

"Why should yon be sorry for him?" demanded Ebenezer, sharply. "He hasn't lost anything."

"Is it nothing to lose his consciousness of integrity, to leave his home knowing that he is a thief?"

"Little he'll care for that!" said Mr. Graham, shrugging his shoulders. "He's laughing in his sleeve, most likely, at the way he has duped and cheated me, his father."

"How old is Eben, Mr. Graham?"

"He will be twenty in November," answered Ebenezer, apparently puzzled by the question.

"Then, as he is so young, let us hope that he may see the error of his ways, and repent."

"That won't bring me back my money," objected Ebenezer, querulously. It was clear that he thought more of the money he had lost than of his son's lack of principle.

"No, it will not give you back your money, but it may give you back a son purified and prepared to take an honorable position in society."

"No, no; he's bad, bad!" said the stricken father. "What did he care for the labor and toil it took to save up that money?"

"I hope the loss of the money will not distress you, Mr. Graham."

"Well, no, not exactly," said Ebenezer, hesitating. "I shall have to take some money from the savings bank to make up what that graceless boy has stolen."

It was clear that Ebenezer Graham would not have to go to the poorhouse in consequence of his losses.

"I can hardly offer you consolation," said George Melville, "but I suspect that you will not be called upon to pay any more money for your son."

"I don't mean to!" said Ebenezer, grimly.

"Going away as he has done, he will find it necessary to support himself, and will hardly have courage to send to you for assistance."

"Let him try it!" said Ebenezer, his eyes snapping.

"He may, therefore, being thrown upon his own resources, be compelled to work hard, and that will probably be the best thing that can happen to him."

"I hope he will! I hope he will!" said the storekeeper. "He may find out after a while that he had an easy time at home, and was better paid than he will be among strangers. I won't pay any more of his debts. I'll publish a notice saying that I have given him his time, and won't pay any more debts of his contracting. He might run