ard his father tell his grandmother about the bull, and Mrs.
Egerton said:

'What possessed you to do such a naughty thing as to go out on the
high-road alone, Bobby? You might have been killed, and we should not
have known where you were. What made you do it?'

Bobby looked up at his grandmother with big frightened eyes.

'I went to meet my father,' he faltered.

Mr. Allonby gave a short laugh; his grandmother looked quite horrified.

'You know that is an untruth,' she said. 'Your father must be quite
shocked to hear you.'

Bobby did not attempt to defend himself. His under lip quivered, and
in his small heart was a passionate desire to prove himself innocent of
a lie.

His eyes turned to his father, who was looking down upon him with a
strange gravity, but though he wanted to speak he could not.

'Never mind,' his father said cheerfully, 'he did meet me, and I cannot
yet take in the strange coincidence of it. If I hadn't come by when I
did---- Well, it does not bear thinking about. Did you know you had a
father living, Bobby? For your grandmother seems to have thought I was
dead. I suppose my long silence has seemed inexcusable, but I am
positive that I wrote twice after your daughter's death, Mrs. Egerton,
and to neither letter received any reply. Then I went off with an
exploring party through South America, and have been out of touch with
civilisation for the past five years. Last summer I took up life again
in Canada, and only came home three months ago. I have been ill two
months of that time.'

There was silence. Bobby felt uncomfortable; why, he did not know.
His father looked at him again and sighed.

'Well, I see he is cared for, Mrs. Egerton, and had better fall in with
your wishes. My wife----'

'Your present wife need not be brought into our discussion.'

Mr. Allonby rose to his feet, for Mrs. Egerton's words were bitter and
proud.

'I'll see the boy once again before I leave this part, and now I'll
wish you good afternoon.'

'I'm coming with you, Father.'

Bobby's voice rang out eagerly, expectantly. He had not a doubt but
that he would be taken away at once.

His father looked at him astonished, then smiled and shook his head.

'Oh no, my boy; you belong to your grandmother, not to me. I hear you
are going to school soon. I dare say you will find some boys there who
will be as hard to tackle as a run-away bull.'

At this juncture Bobby's aunt entered the room, and