roan, his leg under
him and his head on the earth.

He saw Helen pause beside him, deliberately staring through the dim
light.

'I'm not hurt,' said the Baby, because he knew that he was.

'You are only the Syndicate Baby!' she exclaimed with interrogatory
indignation.

'I'm going to cut the Syndicate; I'll never have anything more to do
with them, Miss Johns.'

Helen did not understand the significance of this eager assurance.

The Baby's brain became clear; he tried to rise, but could not.

'Are you not hurt?' she asked.

'Oh! no, not at all, Miss Johns' (he spoke with eager, youthful
politeness); 'it's only--it's only that I've doubled my leg and can't
quite get up.'

The Baby was pretty tough; a few bumps and breaks were matters of small
importance to him; his employers had already bargained with him not to
play football as he gained so many holidays in bandages thereby. Just
now he was quick enough to take in the situation: Helen despised him, it
was neck or nothing, he must do all his pleading once for all, and the
compensation for a broken leg was this, that she could not have the
inhumanity to leave him till he declared himself fit to be left. He
pulled himself round, and straightened the leg before him as he sat.

Helen was not accustomed to falls and injuries; she was shocked and
pitiful, but she was stern too; she felt that she had the right.

'I'm very sorry; I will go and get some one to help you, but you know
it's entirely your own fault. What have you been behaving in this way
for?'

'If you'd only believe me,' pleaded the Baby, 'I--I--you really can have
no idea, Miss Johns----'

If she could have seen how white and earnest his young face was she
might have listened to him, but the light was too dim.

'I want to know this' (severely), 'Was it you who got on to our sailing
boat that other night?'

'I thought you were alarmed, Miss Johns, and in a rather--rather
dangerous situation.' The Baby was using his prettiest tones, such as he
used when he went out to a dance.

If she could have known how heroic it was to utter these mincing accents
over a broken leg she might have been touched; but she did not even know
that the leg was broken. She went on rigidly, 'How could you get aboard
when she was sailing so fast? Where did you come from?'

'Oh! it wasn't difficult at all, I assure you, Miss Johns; I only got on
between the gusts of the wind. I swam from the Syndicate boat. You know,
of