"I cannot stop now."

The old man fell back, with a pull at his ancient cap. He trembled a
little nervously, his face was flushed, but he glanced back with a
grin at Eddy racing to catch up.

"Drive on, Martin," Carroll said to the coachman.

The old gardener waited until Eddy came alongside, then he called out
to him. "Hi!" he said, "better hurry up. Guess your pa is goin' to
have a reckonin' with ye."

"You shut up!" cried the boy, breathlessly, racing past. When finally
he reached the carriage, he promptly caught hold of the rear, doubled
up his legs, and hung on until it rolled into the grounds of the
Carroll place and drew up in the semicircle opposite the front-door.
Then he dropped lightly to the ground and ran around to the front of
the carriage as his father got out. Eddy without a word stood before
his father, who towered over him grandly, confronting him with a
really majestic reproach, not untinctured with love. The man's
handsome face was quite pale; he did not look so angry as severe and
unhappy, but the boy knew well enough what the expression boded. He
had seen it before. He looked back at his father, and his small,
pink-and-white face never quivered, and his black eyes never fell.

"Well?" said Carroll.

"Where have you been?" asked Carroll.

The anxious faces of the boy's mother and his aunt became visible at
a front window, a flutter of white skirts appeared at the entrance of
the grounds. The girls were returning from their search.

"Answer me," commanded Carroll.

"Teacher sent me on an errand," he replied then, with a kind of
doggedness.

"The truth," said Carroll.

"I went out catching butterflies, after I had dined with Mr. Anderson
and his mother."

"You dined with Mr. Anderson and his mother?"

"Yes, sir. You needn't think he was to blame. He wasn't. I made him
ask me."

"I understand. Then you did not go to school this afternoon, but out
in the field?"

"Yes, sir."

Carroll eyed sharply the boy's right-hand pocket, which bulged
enormously. The girls had by this time come up and stood behind Eddy,
holding to each other, their pretty faces pale and concerned.

"What is that in your pocket?" asked Carroll.

"Marbles."

"Let me see the marbles."

"It ain't marbles, it's candy."

"Where did you get it?"

"Mr. Anderson gave it to me."

Carroll continued to look his son squarely in the eyes.

"I stole it when they wasn't looking," said the boy; "there was a
glass ja