on was speedily directed to Walter. The boy looked
perfectly dazed as the final result of the race broke upon him. After
two or three eager questions put wildly to those nearest him, he had
sunk upon the seat, and when his father spoke to him he did not at first
seem to hear. Then he roused up and slowly went down off the stand and
walked along by his father like one going to execution.

It was a characteristic of Paul Douglas to go straight at a difficulty
or a question and make a frank and honest attempt to clear away all
mystery and trouble.

He saw plainly that some unusual thing was agitating Walter. The boy was
under some great stress of feeling and could not conceal it.

So when the two were back in Walter's room, Paul at once began to seek
the cause of the boy's trouble.

"What is the matter with you, Walter? You have not been yourself all
day."

Walter was very white, and what he said to his father's question was so
inaudible that Paul could not understand it.

"What is the matter with you, Walter? Are you sick? Tell me," said his
father sharply.

"I can't, father, I can't," Walter stammered and looked so wretched that
his father said more gently:

"Don't be afraid of me. Speak out if you are in any trouble. I want to
help you. Don't you know that, Walter?"

"Yes, but------"

"Has it any thing to do with money matters? Tell me."

"Yes, I can't! Can't do it, father. I don't mean----"

And then Walter broke down completely. He laid his head down on his arms
and cried hysterically. Paul sat looking at him sternly. For the first
time that day an inkling of the truth began to dawn on him. At first it
did not seem possible to him that his boy could do such a thing. It was
so incredible to him at first that he sat silently eyeing the bowed head
with an entirely new and bitter feeling.

When he finally spoke it was with a slow and steady measure of speech
revealing great self-restraint.

"Did you bet on the race? Is that what's the matter?"

Walter lifted up his head and looked with a terrified face at his
father.

"O father, don't be hard on me! I felt so sure we would win! I didn't
see any risk! And all the fellows in Burrton bet on the race. A fellow
isn't considered loyal to the school unless he bets something."

"How much did you lose?"

"I put up that last one hundred you sent me and fifty more."

"When do you have to pay?"

"I suppose at once. That's the rule."

"What other debts have