"Oh, let it pa.s.s," said Dave. "I might have been worked up myself, if I had been in Nat's place."

"Here comes the train-we don't want to miss it," cried the money-lender's son, and he showed that he was glad to close the interview. "Remember, if you catch those fellows, I'll testify against 'em!" he called over his shoulder as he pushed through the doorway.

"The same old Nat, never willing to acknowledge himself in the wrong,"

was Ben's comment, as he and Dave ran for the car steps. The other boy had lost himself in the waiting crowd and got into another car, and they did not see him again until Crumville was reached, and even then he did not speak to them.

The snow was coming down lightly when Dave and Ben alighted, baggage and bundles in hand, for they had not risked checking anything in such a crowd. Ben's father was on hand to greet him, and close at hand stood the Wadsworth family sleigh, with Laura and Jessie on the rear seat. The driver came to take the suit-case and Dave's bundle, grinning a welcome as he did so.

"There's Dave!" cried Jessie, as soon as he appeared. "Isn't he growing tall!" she added.

"Yes," answered the sister. "Dave!" she called.

"Here we are again!" he cried with a bright smile, and shook hands. "I brought you a snowstorm for a change."

"I like snow for Christmas," answered Jessie. She was blushing, for Dave had given her hand an extra tight squeeze.

"How are the folks?"

"All very well," answered Laura. "What have you in that big bundle?"

"Oh, that's a secret, sis," he returned.

"Christmas presents!" cried the sister. "Jessie, let us open the bundle right away." And she made a playful reach for it.

"Not to-day-that belongs to Santa Claus!" cried the brother, holding the bundle out of reach. "My, but this town looks good to me!" he added, as he looked around and waved his hand to Mr. Ba.s.swood. Then Ben took a moment to run up and greet the girls.

"You must come over, Ben," said Laura.

"Why, yes, by all means," added Jessie, and Ben said he would. Then he rejoined his father, and Dave got into the sleigh, being careful to keep his big bundle on his lap, where the girls could not "poke a hole into it to peek," as he put it. There was a flourish of the whip, and the elegant turnout, with its well-matched black horses, started in the direction of the Wadsworth mansion.

CHAPTER VIII-A MERRY CHRISTMAS

As my old readers know, the Wadsworth family and the Porters all lived together, for when Dave found his folks and brought them to Crumville, the rich jewelry manufacturer and his wife could not bear to think of separating from the boy who had saved their daughter from being burned to death. They loved Dave almost as a son, and it was their proposal that the Porters make the big mansion their home. As Dave's father was a widower and his brother Dunston was a bachelor, they readily agreed to this, provided they were allowed to share the expenses. With the two families was old Caspar Potts, who spent most of his time in the library, cataloguing the books, keeping track of the magazines, and writing a volume on South American history.

With a merry jingling of the bells, the family sleigh drove into the s.p.a.cious grounds. As it rounded the driveway and came to a halt at the front piazza the door opened and Dave's father came out, followed by Dunston Porter.

"h.e.l.lo, Dad!" cried the son, joyously, and made a flying leap from the sleigh. "How are you?" And then he shook hands with his parent and with his uncle-that same uncle whom he so strongly resembled,-a resemblance that had been the means of bringing the pair together.

"Dave, my son!" said Mr. Porter, as he smiled a welcome.

"Getting bigger every day, Davy!" was Uncle Dunston's comment. "Before you know it, you'll be taller than I am!" And he gave his nephew a hand-clasp that made Dave wince.

"Oh, he's getting awfully tall, I said so as soon as I saw him,"

remarked Jessie, as she, too, alighted, followed by Laura. By this time Dave was in the hallway, giving Mrs. Wadsworth a big hug and a kiss.

When he had first known her, Dave had been a little afraid of Mrs.

Wadsworth, she was such a lady, but now this was past and he treated her as she loved to be treated, just as if he were her son.

"Aren't you glad I've returned to torment you?" he said, as he gave her another squeeze.

"Very glad, Dave, very glad indeed!" she answered, beaming on him. "I don't mind the way you torment me in the least," and then she hurried off, to make sure that the dinner ordered in honor of Dave's home-coming should be properly served.

In the library doorway stood Caspar Potts, his hair now as white as snow. He came forward and laid two trembling white hands in those of Dave.

"Dave, my boy Dave!" he murmured, and his watery eyes fairly glistened.

"Yes, Professor, your boy, always your boy!" answered Dave, readily, for he loved the old instructor from the bottom of his heart. "And how is the history getting on?"

"Fairly well, Dave. I have nine chapters finished."

"Good! Some day, when it is finished, I'll find a publisher for you; and then you'll be famous."

"I don't know about that, Dave. But I like to write on the book-and the research work is very pleasant, especially in such pleasant surroundings," murmured the old gentleman.

Mr. Wadsworth was away at his office, but presently he came back, and greeted Dave warmly, and asked about the school and his chums. Then, as the girls went off to get ready for dinner, the men folks and Dave went into the library.

"Have you heard anything more of those two young rascals, Merwell and Jasniff?" questioned Mr. Porter.

"Yes, but not in the way I'd like," answered Dave, and told of what Nat Poole had had to say and of what had occurred at Squirrel Island. "Have you heard anything here?" he added.

"Did the girls tell you anything?" asked his father.

"Not a word-they didn't have a chance, for we didn't want to talk before Peter." Peter was the driver of the sleigh.

"I see." Mr. Porter mused for a moment and looked at Mr. Wadsworth.

"Those good-for-nothing boys have done a number of mean things," said the jewelry manufacturer. "They have circulated many reports, about you and your family, and about me and my family. They must be very bitter, to act in such a fashion. If I could catch them, I'd like to wring their necks!" And Oliver Wadsworth showed his excitement by pacing up and down the library.

"Did you get your affairs with the department stores fixed up?"

"Yes, but not without considerable trouble."

"Have Jasniff and Merwell shown themselves in Crumville lately?"

"Yes, three days ago they followed your sister Laura and Jessie to a church fair the girls attended. They acted in such a rude fashion that both of the girls ran all the way home. All of us went out to look for them, but we didn't find them."

"Oh, if I had only been at that fair!" murmured Dave.

"What could you have done against two of them?" asked his uncle.

"I don't know, but I would have made it warm for them-and maybe handed them over to the police."

"I have cautioned the girls to be on their guard," said David Porter.

"And you must be on your guard, Dave. It is not wise to take chances with such fellows as Jasniff and Merwell."

"I'll keep my eyes open for them," answered the son.