d been drowning and his father had plunged into the water to save him!

A sob rose in his throat and he caught the elder man's hand between both
of his.

"Oh, Dad," he exclaimed, "I've been so rotten to you--so mean--so
cowardly. I'm ashamed to--"

"Don't talk about it now, son. I know."

"You know what I did?"

"Yes."

"But--" the boy paused bewildered.

"Don't talk any more about it now, Stevie," pleaded his mother.

"But I've got to know," said the lad. "Can't you see that--"

"Let me talk with him alone a moment," suggested Mr. Tolman in an
undertone. "He is all upset and he won't calm down until he has this
thing off his mind. Leave me here with him a little while. I'll promise
that he does not tire himself."

The doctor, Mr. Ackerman and Mrs. Tolman moved across the room toward
the window.

"You asked how I knew, son," began his father with extreme gentleness.
"I didn't really know. I just put two and two together. There was the
scratched machine and the gasoline gone--both of which facts puzzled me
not a little. But the proof that clinched it all and made me certain of
what had happened came to me this morning when Havens brought me an old
red sweater and some school papers of Bud Taylor's that the men who were
overhauling the car found under the seat. In an instant the whole thing
was solved."

"You knew before we went skating then?"

"Yes."

"And--and--you jumped into the water after me just the same."

Mr. Tolman's voice trembled:

"You are my son and I love you no matter what you may do."

"Oh, Dad, I'm so sorry!" sobbed the boy. "I wanted to tell you--I meant
to. It was just that I was too much of a coward. I was so ashamed of
what I had done that I hadn't the nerve. After it was over it all seemed
so wrong. I knew you would be angry--"

"Rather say _sorry_, son."

"Well, sorry. And now that you have been so white to me I'm more ashamed
still."

"There, there, my boy, we will say no more about it," his father
declared. "You and your conscience have probably had a pretty bitter
battle and I judge you have not been altogether happy since your
adventure. People who do wrong never are. It is no fun to carry your
fault to bed with you and find it waiting when you wake up in the
morning."

"You bet it isn't!" replied the lad, with fervor. "But can't I do
something now to make good, Dad?"

Mr. Tolman checked an impulsive protest and after a moment responded
gravely:

"We will see. P