Bob was not a “complete letter-writer” by any means, and with great labor and much ink had produced the following brief but highly satisfactory epistle.  Not knowing how to address his fair correspondent he let it alone, and went at once to the point in the frankest possible way:—­

“Jack did come up Friday.  Sorry he got into a mess.  It was real kind of him, and I shall pay him back soon.  Jack paid Jerry for me and I made him promise not to tell.  Jerry said he’d come here and make a row if I didn’t cash up.  I was afraid I’d lose the place if he did, for the Capt. is awful strict.  If Jack don’t tell now, I will.  I ain’t mean.  Glad you wrote.

“R.O.W.”

“Hurrah!” cried Jill, waving the letter over her head in great triumph.  “Call everybody and read it out,” she added, as Frank snatched it, and ran for his mother, seeing at a glance that the news was good.  Jill was so afraid she should tell before the others came that she burst out singing “Pretty Bobby Shafto” at the top of her voice, to Jack’s great disgust, for he considered the song very personal, as he was rather fond of “combing down his yellow hair,” and Jill often plagued him by singing it when he came in with the golden quirls very smooth and nice to hide the scar on his forehead.

In about five minutes the door flew open and in came Mamma, making straight for bewildered Jack, who thought the family had gone crazy when his parent caught him in her arms, saying tenderly,—­

“My good, generous boy!  I knew he was right all the time!” while Frank worked his hand up and down like a pump-handle, exclaiming heartily,—­

“You’re a trump, sir, and I’m proud of you!” Jill meantime calling out, in wild delight,—­

“I told you so!  I told you so!  I did find out; ha, ha, I did!”

“Come, I say!  What’s the matter?  I’m all right.  Don’t squeeze the breath out of me, please,” expostulated Jack, looking so startled and innocent, as he struggled feebly, that they all laughed, and this plaintive protest caused him to be released.  But the next proceeding did not enlighten him much, for Frank kept waving a very inky paper before him and ordering him to read it, while Mamma made a charge at Jill, as if it was absolutely necessary to hug somebody.

“Hullo!” said Jack, when he got the letter into his own hand and read it.  “Now who put Bob up to this?  Nobody had any business to interfere—­but it’s mighty good of him, anyway,” he added, as the anxious lines in his round face smoothed themselves away, while a smile of relief told how hard it had been for him to keep his word.

“I did!” cried Jill, clapping her hands, and looking so happy that he could not have scolded her if he had wanted to.

“Who told you he was in the scrape?” demanded Jack, in a hurry to know all about it now the seal was taken off his own lips.

“You did;” and Jill’s face twinkled with naughty satisfaction, for this was the best fun of all.