m. "You would think somebody had dug his heels in here and then
slid down until he reached the ground! And this! What on earth has
happened to the thing, Havens? It looks as if it had been used for a
gymnasium."

Hot and cold by turns, Steve listened. The marks to which his father
pointed told a truthful story. Somebody had braced his heels against the
side and then slid to the ground; it was Bud Taylor. And that other
jagged line indicated where Tim Barclay had scrambled over the edge and
made his hurried exit. The history of the whole miserable adventure was
etched in the varnish as vividly as if it had been traced there in
words. Stephen gasped with horror when he saw how plainly the entire
story stood out in the sunlight of the November day. Why, the most
stupid person alive could read it! Every moment he expected that his
father or Havens would wheel on him and ask accusingly:

"When was it you carried all those boys to Torrington?"

He could hear his heart thumping inside him and feel the beat of the
blood that scorched his cheek. He had not pictured a dilemma like this.
The affair had gone off so smoothly that he had flattered himself every
possibility of discovery was past, and in this comforting knowledge he
had basked with serenity. And now, behold, here he was at the brink of
peril, and just when he had had such a glorious holiday, too!

"How do you solve the riddle, Havens?" he heard his father asking.

"I ain't solvin' it, sir," was the drawling answer. "Maybe Steve could
give you a hint, though," he added slyly.

The lad stiffened. He and Havens had never been friends. They had been
through too many battles for that. The chauffeur did not like boys and
took no trouble to conceal the fact, and as a result he had been the
prey of many a mischievous prank. It was through his vigilance that
Stephen had more than once been brought to justice and in the punishment
that followed Havens had exulted without restraint. As a retaliation the
boy tormented him whenever opportunity presented, the two carrying on a
half-bitter, half-humorous feud which was a source of mutual
gratification.

Had not this been the case the confession that trembled on Stephen's
tongue would doubtless have been uttered then and there. But to speak
before Havens and afford him the chance to crow and rejoice,--that was
not to be thought of. Therefore, drawing in his chin and holding his
head a trifle higher than was his wont, he replied