against you, as he did with Harry. I know how it is, and you had better
take my word, and trust to me and straightforwardness, when you get into
a mess."

"I'm in no scrape," said Tom, so doggedly, that Norman lost patience,
and spoke with more displeasure. "You will be then, if you go out of
bounds, and run Anderson's errands, and shirk work. You'd better take
care. It is my place to keep order, and I can't let you off for being my
brother; so remember, if I catch you going to Ballhatchet's again, you
may make sure of a licking."

So the warning closed--Tom more alarmed at the aspect of right, which he
fancied terrific, and Norman with some compunction at having lost temper
and threatened, when he meant to have gained him by kindness.

Norman recollected his threat with a qualm of dismay when, at the end of
the week, as he was returning from a walk with Cheviot, Tom darted out
of the gate-house. He was flying across the bridge, with something under
his arm, when Norman laid a detaining hand on his collar, making a sign
at the same time to Cheviot to leave them.

"What are you doing here?" said Norman sternly, marching Tom into the
field. "So you've been there again. What's that under your jacket?"

"Only--only what I was sent for," and he tried to squeeze it under the
flap.

"What is it? a bottle--"

"Only--only a bottle of ink."

Norman seized it, and gave Tom a fierce angry shake, but the indignation
was mixed with sorrow. "Oh, Tom, Tom, these fellows have brought you a
pretty pass. Who would have thought of such a thing from us!"

Tom cowered, but felt only terror.

"Speak truth," said Norman, ready to shake it out of him; "is this for
Anderson junior?"

Under those eyes, flashing with generous, sorrowful wrath, he dared
not utter another falsehood, but Anderson's threats chained him, and he
preferred his thraldom to throwing himself on the mercy of his brother
who loved him. He would not speak.

"I am glad it is not for yourself," said Norman; "but do you remember
what I said, in case I found you there again?"

"Oh! don't, don't!" cried the boy. "I would never have gone if they had
not made me."

"Made you?" said Norman, disdainfully, "how?"

"They would have thrashed me--they pinched my fingers in the box--they
pulled my ears--oh, don't--"

"Poor little fellow!" said Norman; "but it is your own fault. If you
won't keep with me, or Ernescliffe, of course they will bully you. But
I must not let