before, Mr. Ribsam had met and conquered similar ones when he was a boy.

While he persistently refused to show Nick how to solve some of the
intricate problems brought home, yet when the son, after hours of
labor, was still all abroad, his father would ask him a question or two
so skillfully framed that the bright boy was quick to detect their
bearing on the subject over which he was puzzling his brain. The
parent's query was like the lantern's flash which shows the ladder for
which a man is groping.

The task of the evening being finished, Mr. Ribsam tested his boy with a
number of problems that were new to him. Most of them were in the nature
of puzzles, with a "catch" hidden somewhere. Nick could not give the
right answer in every instance, but he did so in a majority of cases; so
often, indeed, that his father did a rare thing,--he complimented his
skill and ability.




CHAPTER IV.

LOST.


It was two miles from the home of Mr. Ribsam to the little stone
school-house where his children were receiving their education. A short
distance from the dwelling a branch road turned off to the left, which,
being followed nine miles or so, mostly through woods, brought one to
the little country town of Dunbarton.