we are compelled for a time to leave our hero inthe hands of his enemies, and return to the town ofcrawford, where an event has occurred which influencesseriously the happiness and position of hissister, grace.

ever since frank left the town, grace had been awelcome member of mr. pomeroy's family, receivingthe kindest treatment from all, so that she had cometo feel very much at home.

so they lived happily together, till one disastrousnight a fire broke out, which consumed the house,and they were forced to snatch their clothes and escape,saving nothing else.

mr. pomeroy's house was insured for two-thirdsof its value, and he proposed to rebuild immediately,but it would be three months at least before the newhouse would be completed. in the interim, he succeededin hiring a couple of rooms for his family,but their narrow accommodations would oblige themto dispense with their boarder. sorry as mr. andmrs. pomeroy were to part with her, it was obviousthat grace must find another home.

``we must let frank know,'' said mr. pomeroy,and having occasion to go up to the city at once tosee about insurance, he went to the store of gilbert& mack, and inquired for prank.

``fowler? what was he?'' was asked.

``a cash-boy.''

``oh, he is no longer here. mr. gilbert dischargedhim.''

``do you know why he was discharged?'' askedmr. pomeroy, pained and startled.

``no; but there stands mr. gilbert. he can tellyou.''

mr. pomeroy introduced himself to the head ofthe firm and repeated his inquiry.

``if you are a friend of the lad,'' said mr. gilbert,``you will be sorry to learn that he was charged withdishonesty. it was a very respectable lady whomade the charge. it is only fair to say that the boydenied it, and that, personally, we found him faithfuland trusty. but as the dullness of trade compelledus to discharge some of our cash-boys, wenaturally discharged him among the number, without,however, judging his case.''

``then, sir, you have treated the boy very unfairly.

on the strength of a charge not proved, you havedismissed him, though personally you had noticednothing out of the way in him, and rendered itimpossible for him to obtain another place.''

``there is something in what you say, i admit.

perhaps i was too hasty. if you will send the boyto me, i will take him back on probation.''

``thank you, sir,'' said mr. pomeroy, gratefully``i will send him here.''

but this mr. pomeroy was unable to do. he didnot know of frank's new address, and though hewas still in the city, he failed to find him.

he returned to crawford and communicated theunsatisfactory intelligence. he tried to obtain a newboarding place for grace, but no one was willing totake her at two dollars a week, especially when mr.

pomeroy was compelled to admit that frank wasnow out of employment, and it was doubtful if hewould be able to keep up the payment.

tom pinkerton managed to learn that grace wasnow without a home, and mentioned it to his father.

``won't she have to go to the poorhouse now,father?'' he asked eagerly.

``yes,'' said deacon pinkerton. ``there is no otherplace for her that i can see.''

``ah, i'm glad,'' said tom, maliciously. ``won'tthat upstart's pride be taken down? he was tooproud to go to the poorhouse, where he belonged,but he can't help his sister's going there. if he isn'ta pauper himself, he'll be the brother of a pauper,and that's the next thing to it.''

``that is true,'' said the deacon. ``he was veryimpudent in return for my kindness. still, i amsorry for him.''

i am afraid the deacon's sorrow was not verydeep, for he certainly looked unusually cheerful whenhe harnessed up his horse and drove around to thetemporary home of the pomeroys.

``good-morning, mr. pomeroy,'' he said, seeing thelatter in the yard. ``you've met with a severe loss.''

``yes, deacon; it is a severe loss to a poor manlike me.''

``to be sure. well, i've called around to relieveyou of a part of your cares. i am going to takegrace fowler to the poorhouse.''

``couldn't you get her a place with a privatefamily to help about the house in return for her board,while she goes to school?''

``there's nobody wants a young girl like her,'' saidthe deacon.

``her brother would pay part of her board--thatis, when he has a place.''

``hasn't he got a place?'' asked the deacon,pricking up his ears. ``i heard he was in a store in newyork.''

``he lost his place,'' said mr. pomeroy, reluctantly,``partly because of the dullness of general trade.''

``then he can't maintain his sister. she will haveto go to the poorhouse. will you ask her to getready, and i'll take her right over to the poorhouse.''

there was no alternative. mr. pomeroy went intothe house, and broke the sad news to his wife andgrace.

``never mind,'' she said, with attempted cheerfulness,though her lips quivered, ``i shan't have to staythere long. frank will be sure to send for me veryshortly.''

``it's too bad, grace,'' said sam, looking red aboutthe eyes; ``it's too bad that you should have to go tothe poorhouse.''

``come and see me, sam,'' said grace.

``yes, i will, grace. i'll come often, too. youshan't stay there long.''

``good-by,'' said grace, faltering. ``you have allbeen very kind to me.''

``good-by, my dear child,'' said mrs. pomeroy.

``who knows but you can return to us when the newhouse is done?''

so poor grace went out from her pleasant home tofind the deacon, grim-faced and stern, waiting forher.

``jump in, little girl,'' he said. ``you've kept mewaiting for you a long time, and my time is valuable.''

the distance to the poorhouse was about a mileand a half. for the first half mile deacon pinkertonkept silence. then he began to speak, in a tone ofcold condescension, as if it were a favor for such asuperior being to address an insignificant child,about to become a pauper.

``little girl, have you heard from your brotherlately?''

``not very lately, sir.''

``what is he doing?''

``he is in a store.''

``i apprehend you are mistaken. he has lost hisplace. he has been turned away,'' said the deacon,with satisfaction.''

``frank turned away! oh, sir, you must be mistaken.''

``mr. pomeroy told me. he found out yesterdaywhen he went to the city.''

poor grace! she could not longer doubt now, andher brother's misfortune saddened her even morethan her own.

``probably you will soon see your brother.''

``oh, do you think so, sir?'' asked grace, joyfully.

``yes,'' answered the deacon, grimly. ``he will findhimself in danger of starvation in the city, and he'llcreep back, only too glad to obtain a nice, comfortablehome in the poorhouse.''

but grace knew her brother better than that. sheknew his courage, his self-reliance and his independentspirit, and she was sure the deacon was mistaken.

the home for which grace was expected to be sograteful was now in sight. it was a dark, neglectedlooking house, situated in the midst of barren fields,and had a lonely and desolate aspect. it wassuperintended by mr. and mrs. chase, distant relationsof deacon pinkerton.

mr. chase was an inoffensive man, but mrs.

chase had a violent temper. she was at work inthe kitchen when deacon pinkerton drove up. hearingthe sound of wheels, she came to the door.

``mrs. chase,'' said the deacon, ``i've brought youa little girl, to be placed under your care.''

``what's her name?'' inquired the lady.

``grace fowler.''

``grace, humph! why didn't she have a decentname?''

``you can call her anything you like,'' said the deacon.

``little girl, you must behave well,'' said deaconpinkerton, by way of parting admonition. ``thetown expects it. i expect it. you must never ceaseto be grateful for the good home which it providesyou free of expense.''

grace did not reply. looking in the face of herfuture task-mistress was scarcely calculated toawaken a very deep feeling of gratitude.

``now,'' said mrs. chase, addressing her newboarder, ``just take off your things, betsy, and makeyourself useful.''

``my name isn't betsy, ma'am.''

``it isn't, isn't it?''

``no; it is grace.''

``you don't say so! i'll tell you one thing, i shan'tallow anybody to contradict me here, and your name'sgot to be betsy while you're in this house. nowtake off your things and hang them up on that peg.

i'm going to set you right to work.''

``yes, ma'am,'' said grace, alarmed.

``there's some dishes i want washed, betsy, and iwon't have you loitering over your work, neither.''

``very well, ma'am.''

such was the new home for which poor grace wasexpected to be grateful.