me shamefully. Go to your room, Andy Wildwood. We'll attend to this
matter of yours in the morning."

"What matter?" demanded Andy.

"Never mind, now. Do as I say. There's a rod in pickle for you, young
man, that may bring you to your senses this time."

Andy preferred loneliness up stairs to nagging down stairs. He left the
kitchen and reached his own room. He lit a candle and sat down on
the bed.

There was a sharp click at the door almost immediately. His aunt had
stolen silently up the stairs and had bolted him in.

"As if that would keep me if I wanted to get out very bad!" thought
Andy, with a glance at the frail door. "Oh, but I'm tired of all this!
I've made up my mind. I shall leave Fairview."

Andy went to a shelf, felt in an old vase, and took out a key.

He fitted it to the lower drawer of the bureau in the room. It was full
of old clothes and papers that had belonged to his father.

Finally Andy unearthed a little wooden box, and lifted it to the light.
It held a lot of trinkets, and from among them Andy selected a large
silver watch and chain. He also took out a small box. It was made of
some very dark smooth wood, and its corners and center were decorated
with carved pieces of gold and mother of pearl.