That was exactly what he was, and if any one had become acquainted with either son or father, there would have been no difficulty afterward in identifying the other.

It required a good deal more than the telegraphic report of the accident or even her husband’s assurances, to relieve the motherly anxiety of good Mrs. Foster, or even to drive away the shadows from the face of Annie.

No doubt if Ford himself had known the state of affairs, they would have been relieved earlier; for even while they were talking about him he was already in the house.  It had not so much as occurred to him that his mother would hear of the accident to the pig and the railway train until he himself should tell her, and so, he had made sure of his supper down-stairs, before reporting himself.  He might not have done it, perhaps, but he had come in through the lower way, by the area door, and that of the dining-room had stood temptingly wide open with some very eatable things ready on the table.

That had been too much for Ford, after his car-ride and his smash-up and his long walk.  But now, at last, up he came, brimful of new and wonderful experiences, to be more than a little astonished by the manner and enthusiasm of his welcome.

“Why, mother!” he exclaimed, when he got a chance for a word, “you and Annie couldn’t have said much more if I’d been the pig himself.”

“The pig?” said Annie.

“Yes, the pig that stopped us.  He and the engine wont go home to their families to-night.”

“Don’t make fun of it, Ford,” said his mother, gently; “it’s too serious a matter.”

Just then his father broke in, almost impatiently, with, “Well, Ford, my boy, have you done your errand, or shall I have to see about it myself?  You’ve been gone two days.”

“Thirty-seven hours and a half, father,” replied Ford, taking out his watch.  “I’ve kept an exact account of my expenses.  We’ve saved the cost of advertising.”

“And spent it on railroading,” said his father, with a laugh.

“But, Ford,” asked Annie, “did you find a house?—­a good one?”

“Yes,” added Mrs. Foster, “now I’m sure you’re safe, I do want to hear about the house.”

“It’s all right, mother,” said Ford, confidently.  “The very house you told me to hunt for.  Neither too large nor too small, and it’s in apple-pie order.”

There were plenty of questions to answer now, but Ford was every way equal to the occasion.  His report, in fact, compelled his father to look at him with an expression of face which very clearly meant, “That boy resembles me.  I was just like him at his age.  He’ll be just like me at mine.”

There was really very good reason to approve of the manner in which the young gentleman had performed his errand in the country, and Mr. Foster promptly decided to go over, in a day or two, and settle matters with Mrs Kinzer.

(To be continued.)