"Well, Frank, we advertised for you, for over two years, in the American and Colonial papers, and at last began almost to despair.

"About two months ago, when we were in Milan--for we have been wandering about Europe for the last eight or nine months--your friend Adams found us out; the good fellow had been hunting for us for two months."

"Ah! that explains why I have not heard from him," Frank interrupted. "I have been looking for a letter for the last two months, and had begun to conclude that as he had nothing pleasant to tell me he had not written, and that I should never hear now."

"Then you thought like a young fool," Captain Bayley said angrily.

"Well, as soon as Adams had given your message to Alice--and why you should have supposed that Alice should have believed in your innocence any more than me, except that women never will believe what they don't want to believe, I don't know--well, of course, she told us about it at once, and we came back to England and talked it over, and settled that the best thing was for us all to come out and see you."

"All!" Frank repeated in surprise.

"Yes, all; the headstrong young woman would not be left behind, and she is at Sacramento now, that is if she hasn't been shot by some of these red-shirted miners, or come to her end some other way. We stayed two days at San Francisco. I have wandered about a good deal, but I thought before I saw Sacramento and these places, that city was the residence of the roughest and most dangerous set of rascals I ever met.

"We travelled by coach across the plains, and on going to the bank at Sacramento found that you had been just shooting some highwaymen, and had got your arm broken by a bullet. So we put Alice in charge of the landlady of the hotel, and dared her to stir out of the room till we got back; we came on to the place where they said you were stopping, but found that you had come on here this morning. So we took our places in the coach again, and here we are; and the sooner we get away from here the better, so I hope you will be ready to start early in the morning."

"But, my dear uncle," Frank began.

"Don't give me any of your buts, sir," Captain Bayley said peremptorily.

"You have been hiding too long, now you must go back and take your place again."

"But I can't clear myself of this affair."

"Don't tell me, sir," the old officer said angrily "you have cleared yourself to me, and I will take good care that the truth is known. As for that rascal Fred, I deserve all the trouble that I have gone through for being such an old fool as to let him take me in. I want to get back as quickly as possible to make my will again. Ever since Harry put the idea into my mind I have been fretting about the one I had made leaving Fred a third of my property. I thought if anything happened to me before the matter was cleared up, and I found out in the next world--where I suppose people know everything--that I had been wrong, I should have been obliged to have asked for a furlough to come back again to set it straight. Alice will be fidgeting her life out, and we must set out at once; so let us have no more nonsense about delay."

Frank offered no further resistance, and agreed to start on the following morning.

"You look more like yourself now, Frank," his uncle said, "for, except by the tones of your voice, I should hardly have known you. You must have grown ten inches bigger round the shoulders than you were, and have grown into a very big man. You don't look so big here, where there are so many burly miners about, but when you get back to London people will quite stare at you. Your face at present is tanned almost black, and that beard, which I suppose is the result of exposure, makes you look half a dozen years older than you really are. I hope you will shave it off at once, and look like a civilised English gentleman."

"I suppose I must do so," Frank said, rather ruefully, "for one never sees a beard in London, except on a foreigner. I suppose some day men will be sensible and wear them."

They sat talking until late in the night, Frank hearing all particulars of the discovery of Harry's relationship to Captain Bayley, and the news of all that had taken place since he had left England. He arranged for sleeping accommodation for them for the night in the hut of the storekeeper for whom he brought up provisions, judging that this was more comfortable and quiet for them than in the crowded and noisy plank edifice called the hotel. The next morning they started by the coach for Sacramento, Frank ordering the muleteers to follow with the animals at once. It was a twenty-four hours' drive; but it did not seem a long one to any of them, for Frank had so much to tell about his doings and adventures from the day when he last saw them, that there was scarce a pause in their talk, until at night Captain Bayley and Harry dozed in their corner of the coach, while Frank got outside and sat and smoked by the driver, being altogether too excited by the sudden arrival of his uncle, and the change in all his plans, to feel inclined for sleep. It was ten o'clock in the morning when they drove into Sacramento.

"I think, uncle, I will just go round to my house, for I keep one regularly here, and put on the garb of civilisation. Alice would not recognise me in this red shirt and high boots."

"Stuff and nonsense!" Captain Bayley said. "You had a wash-up when we breakfasted, and what do you want more? There, go up and see the girl at once, Harry and I will join you in a minute or two; according to my experience, these sort of meetings are always better without the presence of a third party," and the old officer winked at his grandson as Frank sprang up the stairs after the waiter whom Captain Bayley directed to show him to Miss Hardy's sitting-room.

Although Captain Bayley had told him that Alice had become a young woman, Frank had not realised the change that three years had produced in her. He had left her a laughing girl--a dear little girl, Frank had always thought--but scarcely pretty, and he stood for a moment in astonishment at the tall and very beautiful young woman of eighteen who stood before him. Alice was no less astonished, and for a moment could scarcely credit that this broad muscular man was her old playfellow, Frank. The pause was but momentary on both parties, and with a cry of joy and welcome the girl ran into his arms as frankly and naturally as she had done as a child.

"There, that's enough, Frank," she said presently. "You mustn't do that any more, you know, because I am grown up, and you know we are not really even cousins."

"Cousins or not, Alice," Frank said, laughing, "I have kissed you from the time you were a child, and if you suppose I am going to give it up now, when there is a real pleasure in kissing you, you are mistaken, I can tell you."

"We shall see about that, sir," the girl said; "we are in California now, among wild people, but when we get back to England we must behave like civilised beings. But, O Frank, what a monster of a dog! Is he savage? He looks as if he were going to fly at me."

For Turk, to whom greetings of this sort were entirely new, was standing at the door, his bristles half-raised, doubtful whether Alice was to be treated as a friend or foe.

"Come here, Turk. He is the best of dogs, Alice, though it is well not to put him out, for he has killed two men, one in defence of our money, the other of myself; but he is the dearest of dogs, and I will tell you some day how I found him. Come here, Turk, and give your hand to this lady, she is a very great friend of your master."

Turk gravely approached and offered his paw, which Alice took cautiously, Frank's report of his doings being by no means encouraging.

Turk, satisfied now that there was no occasion for his interference, threw himself down at full length upon the hearthrug, and Alice turned to Frank.

"I am so glad you are coming home again."

"And I am glad to be coming home again," Frank said, "or rather I shall be when this matter is quite cleared up."

"I should not bother any more about it," Alice said decidedly. "Uncle Harry and I are all quite, quite sure that you had nothing to do with that horrible business, and that ought to be quite enough for you."

"It isn't quite enough, Alice," he said, "although it is a very great deal; but we need not talk about that now. Oh, here is uncle."

In the course of the day Alice heard of the new light which had been thrown on the matter by the discovery that Frank had written to protest his innocence, which letter had never come to hand, and that it was Fred who had urged Frank to fly and had supplied him with money to do so.

"I always knew he was at the bottom of it," Alice said decidedly. "I always said it was Fred. But I hope, Frank, you or uncle don't mean to take any steps to get him into trouble. I hate him, you know, and always have; still, I think he will be punished enough with the loss of the money he so wickedly tried to gain."

"I think so too, Alice; he has behaved like a scoundrel of the worst kind, but, for my part, I am quite content to leave him alone. Still, we must if possible prove that I was innocent."

"But we all know you are innocent, Frank. Uncle never would have doubted it if it had not been for the stories Fred told."

"Yes, Alice; but all the fellows at Westminster were told I was guilty.

I shall be constantly meeting them in the world, and all my life this blot will hang to me if it is not set straight. When we get home I shall go back to the School and see if I cannot hit on some clue or other. Of course if Fred would confess it would be all right, but, after all, we have not a shadow of real proof against him. We have only our suspicion, and the fact that the letter did not come to hand; and if he faces it out, and declares he posted it all right, who is to gainsay him? Letters have gone wrong before now. I must clear myself if I can, but I promise you that I will not bring public disgrace upon him if it can possibly be avoided."

"He ought to be publicly disgraced," Captain Bayley roared, "the mean scoundrel, with his quiet voice and his treacherous lies. Not disgrace him? I would tie him up to a post in St. Paul's Churchyard, and hire a bellman to stand on a chair beside him and tell the story of what he has done every half-hour. Why, sir, he would have taken in St. Dunstan with his pretended hesitation to say anything to your disadvantage, and the affectation of pain with which he hinted that you had confessed your guilt to him. The scoundrel, the rascal, the hypocrite! When I think what his work has done, that you were disgraced at school, and sent wandering for three years--not that that has done you any harm, rather the contrary--to think that Alice has been wretched, and I have been on thorns and out of temper with myself and every one else for the same time, that for the last year we have been wandering about Europe like three sentimental travellers, wasting our lives, spending our money, and making fools of ourselves, I tell you, sir, if I was sitting as president of a court-martial on him, I would give him five hundred lashes, and then order him to be drummed out of the regiment."

Frank was about to speak, but Alice shook her head to him behind her uncle's back; she knew that his bark was much worse than his bite, and that, while contradiction would only render him obstinate, he would, if left alone, cool down long before the time for action arrived, and could then be coaxed into any course they might all agree upon.

The next morning the party started for San Francisco. Frank had already found a purchaser for his team of mules at a good price, had wound up all his affairs, and obtained an order from the bank on their agents in England for the amount standing to his credit, which came to seven thousand five hundred and sixty pounds.

His uncle was astounded when he heard how much Frank had earned in less than two years' work. "I shall look at these red-shirted ruffians with more respect in future, Frank; for, for aught I know, they may have tens of thousands standing to their credit at the bank."

"My luck has been exceptional, sir," Frank said. "I might dig for another fifty years without making so much. Of course, there are people who have made a good deal more in the same time, but then there are thousands who are no richer than when they began. We had done little more than keep ourselves when we went to work on Adams's claim. We had nearly four hundred apiece from him, besides what we made for our labour, for the horses pretty well kept us; then from the claim six hundred apiece. We had four thousand each out of the rich strike we made at the head of the gulch; the bank gave me two thousand more; the odd money represents the receipts of the rest of my digging and of my earnings with the mule team."

They started for Europe by the first steamer which left San Francisco for Panama, and reached home without adventure. The next morning Captain Bayley took Frank to Mr. Griffith, and told him the story as he had learned it from Frank.

"There, Griffith," he said triumphantly, when he had finished, "if you are not ready to admit that you are the most obstinate, pig-headed fellow that ever lived, I give you up altogether."

"I was wrong, I am glad to see," the lawyer said, smiling, "but I cannot admit that I was wrong as far as the evidence that was before me went; but certainly with the light our young friend has thrown upon the matter I cannot doubt that the view you took was the correct one. Still, remember there is still no actual proof such as a court of justice would go upon. Morally we may be convinced, but unless you obtain further evidence I do not think you are in a position openly to charge Fred Barkley with stealing that ten-pound note, nor do I see how you are to set about getting such evidence."

"We are going to try, anyhow," Captain Bayley said. "Frank and I are going down to Westminster to-morrow to open the investigation again, and with what we know now it is hard if we don't manage to get something."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XXII.

CLEARED AT LAST.

THE following day, after lunch, Captain Bayley and Frank drove round to Westminster. Football was going on in Dean's Yard, and Frank recognised among the players many faces that he knew. It seemed strange to him to think that while he had gone through so much, and had grown from a boy into a man, that they had changed so little, and had been working away regularly at the old round of Euripides and Homer, Terence and Virgil.