and
see," said Anne.

Nobody was looking at Davy just then or it would have been seen that a
very decided change came over his face. He quietly slipped off the gate
and ran, as fast as his fat legs could carry him, to the barn.

Anne hastened across the fields to the Harrison establishment in no
very hopeful frame of mind. The house was locked, the window shades
were down, and there was no sign of anything living about the place. She
stood on the veranda and called Dora loudly.

Ginger, in the kitchen behind her, shrieked and swore with sudden
fierceness; but between his outbursts Anne heard a plaintive cry
from the little building in the yard which served Mr. Harrison as a
toolhouse. Anne flew to the door, unhasped it, and caught up a small
mortal with a tearstained face who was sitting forlornly on an upturned
nail keg.

"Oh, Dora, Dora, what a fright you have given us! How came you to be
here?"

"Davy and I came over to see Ginger," sobbed Dora, "but we couldn't see
him after all, only Davy made him swear by kicking the door. And then
Davy brought me here and run out and shut the door; and I couldn't get
out. I cried and cried, I was frightened, and oh, I'm so hungry and
cold; and I thought you'd never come, Anne."

"Davy?" But Anne could say no more. She carried Dora home with a heavy
heart. Her joy at finding the child safe and sound was drowned out in
the pain caused by Davy's behavior. The freak of shutting Dora up might
easily have been pardoned. But Davy had told falsehoods . . . downright
coldblooded falsehoods about it. That was the ugly fact and Anne could
not shut her eyes to it. She could have sat down and cried with sheer
disappointment. She had grown to love Davy dearly . . . how dearly she had
not known until this minute . . . and it hurt her unbearably to discover
that he was guilty of deliberate falsehood.

Marilla listened to Anne's tale in a silence that boded no good
Davy-ward; Mr. Barry laughed and advised that Davy be summarily dealt
with. When he had gone home Anne soothed and warmed the sobbing,
shivering Dora, got her her supper and put her to bed. Then she returned
to the kitchen, just as Marilla came grimly in, leading, or rather
pulling, the reluctant, cobwebby Davy, whom she had just found hidden
away in the darkest corner of the stable.

She jerked him to the mat on the middle of the floor and then went and
sat down by the east window. Anne was sitting limply by the west window