arn anything. What
should he do? Wait until dark, and then run away, and tramp off to the
West, where other runaway boys went, or should he make for the
sea-board, and from there to South America, from which country he had
heard that criminals could not be brought back?

[Illustration: BENNY MALLOW IN THE BARN.]

But first he ought to learn whether the man was really dead; it might
not be necessary to run away at all. But how should he find out?
Suddenly he remembered that Mr. Wardwell's barn, in which he was, had a
window opening on the alley; so he crept up into the loft, and spent
several moments in trying to look up the alley without putting his head
out of the window. Finally he partly hid his face by holding a handful
of hay in front of it, and peered out. Between the stalks of hay he was
delighted to see the organ-grinder on his feet, although two men were
helping him. They were not both men, either, Benny saw, after more
careful looking, for one of them was Paul Grayson; but the other--horror
of horrors--was Mr. Stott, a justice of the peace. Benny knew that
Justice Stott had sent many men to jail for fighting, and if Grayson
should tell who took part in the attack, Benny had not the slightest
doubt that half of Mr. Morton's pupils would be sent to jail too.

This seemed more dreadful than the prospect of being hanged had done,
but it could be done more quickly. Benny determined at once that he must
find out the worst, and be ready for it, so he waited until the injured
man and his supporters had turned the corner of a street, and were out
of sight; then he bounded into the alley again, hurried home, seized a
basket that was lying beside the back door, and a moment later was
sauntering along the street, whistling, and moving in a direction that
seemed to be that in which he might manage to meet the three as if by
accident. He did not take much comfort out of his whistling, for in his
heart he felt himself to be the most shameful hypocrite that had existed
since the days of Judas Iscariot, and the recollection of having been
told by his Sunday-school teacher within a week that he was the best boy
in his class seemed to make him feel worse instead of better; and his
mind was not relieved of this unpleasant burden until at a shady corner
he came suddenly upon the organ-grinder and his supporters, when he
instantly exchanged his load for a new one.

"Why, what's the matter, Paul?" asked Benny, with as much surpri