Nothing will ever--make me believe so."
"Don't cry, Ellen," said her husband. "There's something about this
that we don't understand."
It was all talked over and over that night, but they were no nearer
understanding the case.
"I'll see what I can do with Willy in the morning," his father said
again, when the discussion was ended for the night.
Willy was not awake at the breakfast hour next morning, so the family
sat down without him. They were not half through the meal when there
were some quick steps on the path outside; the door was jerked open,
and there was aunt Annie and uncle Frank.
She had Willy's little yellow cane in her hand, and she looked as if
she did not know whether to laugh or cry.
"It's found!" she cried out, "it's found! Oh! where is he? He left his
cane, poor little boy!"
Then she really sank into a chair and began to cry. There were
exclamations and questions and finally they arrived at the solution of
the mystery.
Poor little Willy had not done anything with Grandpa's coat. Mrs.
Perry had not given it to him. She had--given it to another boy.
"Last night about seven o'clock," said uncle Frank. "Mr. Gilbert
Hammond brought it into the store. It seems he sent his boy, who is
just about Willy's age, and really looks some like him, for a bundle
he expected to come by express.
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