sighing
once more, he walked slowly down the path, found himself near the river
again, and went and sat on a stump close to the boat-house, where he
could look into the clear water, and see the fish.

It was very interesting to him to watch the little things gliding here
and there, and he wished that he had a rod and line to try for some of
them, when all at once he started, for a well-aimed stone struck him
upon the side of the head, and as it reached its goal, and Dexter
started up angrily, there was a laugh and a rustle among the shrubs.

As the pain went off, so did Dexter's anger, and he reseated himself
upon the stump, thinking, with his young wits sharpened by his early
life.

"I don't call this coming out to enjoy myself," he said drily. "Wonder
whether all young gentleman behave like this?"

Then he began thinking about Sam Stubbs, a boy at the workhouse school,
who was a terrible bully and tyrant, knocking all his companions about.

But the sight of the clean-looking well-varnished boat, floating so
easily in the shade of the roof of its house, took his attention, and he
began thinking of how he should like a boat like that to push off into
the stream, and go floating along in the sunshine, looking down at the
fish, and fastening up every now and then to the overhanging trees. It
would be glorious, he thought.

"I wish Dr Grayson had a boat," he thought. "I could learn to row it,
and--"

_Whack_!

Dexter jumped up again, tingling with pain; and then with his face
scarlet he sat down once more writhing involuntarily, and drawing his
breath hard, as there was a mocking laugh.

The explanation was simple. Master Edgar was dissatisfied. It was very
pleasant to his spoiled, morbid mind to keep on slighting and annoying
his guest by making him dance attendance upon him, and dragging him
about the garden wherever he pleased to go; but it was annoying and
disappointing to find that he was being treated with a calm display of
contempt.

Under these circumstances Master Edgar selected a good-sized stone--one
which he thought would hurt--and took excellent aim at Dexter, where he
sat contemplating the river.

The result was most satisfactory: Dexter had winced, evidently suffered
sharp pain, but only submitted to it, and sat down again twisting
himself about.

Edgar laughed heartily, in fact the tears stood in his eyes, and he
retreated, but only to where he could watch Dexter attentively.

"He's