d, he aroused two or three Chinamen
to forsake their frames of drying fish and cease tossing over the
other small fish that lay drying on the ground.

Seizing the long, heavy iron rods with which the Chinese were wont
to go abalone-hunting, the three Celestials followed in Timoteo's
wake toward the place where Herbert anxiously awaited rescue. There
was much prying with the iron rods before the stone was finally
tilted enough so that the drenched prisoner was released.

"My father pay you," gratefully promised Herbert to the Chinamen,
who nodded and plodded cheerfully back toward their tiny fishing-village.

Herbert looked at Timoteo.

"I'm much obliged to you," said Herbert. "You were good to run for
help."

But now that Timoteo had seen the success of his helpers, an abashed
silence seemed to have overtaken him. He did not answer. The silence
lasted till the two boys reached the cliffs. Herbert grew uneasy.
His conscience accused him somewhat.

"Come to my house, Timoteo, and my father will give you something
for helping me," promised Herbert uneasily, as the boys climbed the
cliffs.

Timoteo shook his head, but he did not look up.

"See here, Timoteo," burst out Herbert, stopping on top of the
cliffs, "what's the matter? Do you hate me?"

Timoteo glanced up slowly. His dark eyes were full of appeal.

"You no talk to teacher any more about me?" he besought. "You no
tell her my father lazy, we no-'count folks?"

Timoteo's voice shook. He hurried on: "I like teacher. I try be
clean. I wash my hands, my face, all time. I do ver' good to the
teacher. But my mother differ from your mother. Your mother give you
nice clean shirt and clothes. My mother too poor. I try learn, read,
spell. I grow like American boy."

It was the appeal of a soul that looked from Timoteo's eyes. Herbert
flushed.

"Why, you poor fellow, of course you try!" he answered heartily. "I--I'm
sorry if I've ever said anything to the teacher that made you
feel badly, Timoteo. I won't do it again, and the other boys
sha'n't, either! The teacher knows how hard you try. She said the
other day that you were a good boy. Come on up to our house. Won't
you?"

But Timoteo smiled, and shook his head, and went away on the long
road that led toward home. The heart of the Spanish boy was very
happy. He had done good to his enemy, and that enemy was turned into
a friend. And the teacher had said that Timoteo was a good boy! She
knew how hard he trie