ain road, passed down by the old
inn and the mill, and swung into a rapid stride for home. It was half
past eleven o'clock when they turned into their beds.

Two days following this adventure, toward the latter part of the
afternoon, Henry Burns was walking up the same road by the stream, in
the direction of the camp, where he was to meet Tom Harris for a spin in
the canoe. He had heard no footsteps near, and was therefore not a
little surprised when a hand touched his arm and a laugh that was
familiar sounded close by his side.

He turned quickly, and there was Bess Thornton.

"Hullo," she said, "I hoped I'd see somebody on the road. I'll walk
along with you."

Henry Burns said "all right" in a tone that was not over-cordial; for,
though not easily abashed, he was, to tell the truth, just a bit shy
with girls, and wondered what Tom Harris would say if he saw him coming
up the road with Bess.

Perhaps the girl's quick intuitiveness perceived this, for a mischievous
light danced in her black eyes as she said, "I thought perhaps you'd
like to have company. You would, wouldn't you?"

"Yes--oh, yes," responded Henry Burns. "Going home from school?"

"Yes," she answered. "But I didn't want to go this morning, a bit. Gran'
made me, though."

"What's the matter?" asked Henry Burns.

"Well," said the girl, "I had to wear this new dress, you see. And when
you wear a new dress they always say things, don't you know? Danny Davis
hollered 'stuck up' once, but I punched him."

"Good for you," said Henry Burns, laughing. "I'd like to have seen
you--that a new dress?"

"Course it is," she answered, with a touch of half-offended pride.
"Can't you see it is?"

Henry Burns made a quick survey of the trim little figure, clad in the
dress that had cost him and Harvey the hard scramble of the recent
night. It was surprising what a difference the pretty suit made in the
appearance of the girl. He made a mental note of the fact that it seemed
just the right size for her, and that she certainly looked very nice in
it. Its dark red set off the black of her glossy hair, and she wore a
neat straw hat that went well with the dress. At least, it looked all
right to Henry Burns.

"You don't look stuck up," he ventured. "You look first rate."

He felt the colour come into his cheeks as he said it. It was the first
time in his life that he had ever complimented a girl. They were passing
a dingy little store, with its windows filled w