ster. He's
emotionally hurt and frightened, and he wants to strike out and hurt
something back."

"I think he's done enough of that," said Grandfather Holden. "When Louis
tossed one of these fits of temper where he wouldn't listen to any
reason, we did as we saw fit anyway and let him kick and scream until
he got tired of the noise he made."

"Let's not be rough," pleaded Jimmy's grandmother. "He's just a little
boy, you know."

"If he weren't so little he'd have better sense," snapped Grandfather.

"James," said Paul Brennan quietly, "do you see you're making trouble for
your grandparents? Haven't we enough trouble as it is? Now, young man,
for the last time, will you walk or will you be carried? Whichever,
Jimmy, we're going back home!"

James Holden gave up. "I'll go," he said bitterly, "but I hate you."

"He'll be all right," promised Brennan. "I swear it!"

"Please, Jimmy, be good for Mr. Brennan," pleaded his grandmother. "After
all, it's for your own good." Jimmy turned away, bewildered, hurt and
silent. He stubbornly refused to say goodbye to his grandparents.

He was trapped in the world of grown-ups that believed a lying adult
before they would even consider the truth of a child.

CHAPTER THREE

The drive home was a bitter experience. Jimmy was sullen, and very quiet.
He refused to answer any question and he made no reply to any statement.
Paul Brennan kept up a running chatter of pleasantries, of promises and
plans for their future, and just enough grief to make it sound honest.
Had Paul Brennan actually been as honest as his honeyed tones said he
was, no one could have continued to accuse him. But no one is more
difficult to fool than a child--even a normal child. Paul Brennan's
protestations simply made Jimmy Holden bitter.

He sat silent and unhappy in the far corner of the front seat all the way
home. In his mind was a nameless threat, a dread of what would come once
they were inside--either inside of Paul Brennan's apartment or inside of
his own home--with the door locked against the outside world.

But when they arrived, Paul Brennan continued his sympathetic attitude.
To Jimmy it was sheer hypocrisy; he was not experienced enough to know
that a person can commit an act and then convince himself that he hadn't.

"Jimmy," said Brennan softly, "I have not the faintest notion of
punishment. None whatsoever. You ruined your father's great invention.
You did that because you thought it