Collin was getting used to bewilderments, to being hustled and managed like a baby instead of a tall, seventeen-year-old boy.  One thing—­he had not been remarkably successful at managing himself.

And when, ten minutes later, he stood with Mrs. Scott, her bright young daughter and Trudy in Mr. Conover’s livery-stable, he kept a stiff upper lip and waited for what should come.

Mr. Conover came forward to meet the oddly-assorted four.  For Collin Spencer he had only unsmiling surprise, and his glance at Trudy was puzzled.  But he knew by sight the lady from the Bellevue Hotel, and he raised his hat with an inquiring face, and drew forward the only chair the stable boasted.  Accepting it, Rosalie’s mother wasted no time in getting to the point, and wasted no words.

“First, Mr. Conover,” she began, “I must apologize for being an interferer, for that is what I am.  My business concerns this boy.  I have just now heard his story from the beginning.”

“About the trick he played me?” said Mr. Conover, half doubting the interest of such a lady in such a case.

“That exactly; all about his foolish escapade and the result of it.  About the effort of this little girl, Trudy Carr, to save him, and about the discovery and discharge.  And, Mr. Conover, I want to ask nothing less than that you take the boy back into your service on a month’s trial.  I feel convinced that the consequences of his error are almost more than he deserves, and perhaps more than you realize, Mr. Conover.  He was led into it by a bad companion, whom he has certainly dropped.  First impressions go for something.  I cannot but believe the boy himself is steady and trustworthy.  And then the anxiety of this girl, who seems to have been such a friend to him—­”

Mrs. Scott’s voice was a little unsteady.

“And his position now is pitiable.  The story has spread through the town in exaggerated forms.  He has tried to get work elsewhere and on that account failed.  I cannot see what is before the boy unless you can forgive and take him back, for it is here only, it seems both to him and to me, that he can redeem himself.  I ask you to take him on a month’s trial, and I wish to give bonds for his good behavior.  I am Mrs. John Scott.”

This, then, was Mrs. Scott’s idea of which she had spoken.  Surely a convincing one.  She opened her purse, took five ten-dollar bills therefrom and handed them to the young livery-stable keeper.

Mr. Conover looked at her in astonishment, slowly rubbing his smooth-shaven head.

“I—­Mrs. Scott,” he said, with earnestness, “I don’t want to take the money.  I begin to see how it is; I see you’re right.  To tell the truth, I was afraid I’d been a little hard on the boy.  I knew that young cur of a Freeman was to blame for it, and I was sorry on the girl’s account and all; but I was hasty, I suppose.  I shouldn’t have done anything, though, about taking him back; but now that you’ve made me see it plainer yet, and if he’s in such a bad fix as all that, why, I’ll give him another chance,” said the young man.  “But never mind the money; I’ll try him.”