"Don't you think it is quite true about the cellars, then?" asked John,
eagerly grasping at a ray of hope. If the cellars were not dungeons
swarming with toads, then there might also be some mistake about little
boys being stolen and sold as slaves to black people. So he waited
anxiously for Betty's opinion on the subject.

"Well, I suppose it is true that he is shut up in those dark places,"
she replied thoughtfully; "because, you see, he can tell us all about
them; the slimy walls I mean, and the black pools of dirty water. Only
I don't believe he is quite as brave as he makes out. I dare say he
cries and screams when he is locked in."

This answer did not do much to calm John's fears. After some natural
hesitation at owning himself in the wrong, he said shyly:

"I don't think I care so very much about Lewis after all. He bullies
just as much as Madge, and doesn't play such amusing games either."

"No, indeed he doesn't!" chimed in Betty eagerly. "It was much more
amusing before we knew him, and there was no hiding things and being
afraid of being found out. It doesn't seem right when we are trusted
to go out by ourselves--"

"Oh, I don't know about that!" interrupted John. "I can't see any harm
in it, not for me at least, because I am a boy, and boys don't stop to
ask whether they may speak to people. I dare say you and Madge ought
not to have done it, as you are girls. But," he added, rather less
grandly, "I think I will play with you to-morrow instead of going to
talk to Lewis. That's to say, I will come if Madge won't be nasty and
disagreeable."

"Of course she won't! I'll talk to her about it, and she will be right
enough when she hears you are not going to follow Lewis any more!"
cried Betty, rejoicing in the prospect of the good time coming when
they would once more all three play harmoniously together, without the
interference of any mischief-making stranger.

CHAPTER XXI.

OLD GAMES.

It was many weeks since the children had started out in such high
spirits as they did on the following afternoon. As long as they were
secretly meeting Lewis, there was always a certain mystery about their
doings which, though at first very exciting, soon became oppressive.
They were in the main truthful, straightforward children, and when they
were tempted first to talk to Lewis, and then to promise secrecy about
having done so, they had not foreseen what an amount of concealment
this conduct wou