punished equally with the criminal, were the two ideas distinct
in her mind when she at last arose to go, saying to Arthur, as she stood
in the door:

'You are sure you are not afraid to have them come here again, if they
take it into their heads to do so?'

'Not in the least; they can search my rooms every day and welcome, if
they like,' was Arthur's reply.

'Well, that beats me!' Jerry said aloud to herself, with a nod for every
word, as she went down the stairs and started for home, taking the Tramp
House on her way. 'I guess I'll go in there and think about it,' she
said, and entering the deserted building, she sat down upon the bench
and began to wonder if she _could do it_, if worst came to worst, as it
might.

'Yes, I could for him, and I'll never tell; I'll be that thing he said,
and a substitute, too, if I can,' she thought, 'though I guess it would
kill me. Oh, I hope I shan't have to do it! I mean to say a prayer about
it, anyway.'

And kneeling down in the damp, dark room, Jerry prayed, first, that it
might never be found out, and second, that if it were she might not be
called to account as an accessory, but might have the courage to be the
substitute, and stand by him forever and ever, amen!'

'I may as well begin to practice, and see if I can bear it,' she
thought, as she walked slowly home, where she astonished Mrs. Crawford
by asking her to make some mush for dinner.

'Mush! Why, child, I thought you hated it' Mrs. Crawford exclaimed.

'I did hate it,' Jerry replied, 'but I want it now real bad. Make it for
me, please. Harold likes it, don't you, Hally?'

Harold did like it very much; and so the mush was made, and Jerry forced
herself to swallow it in great gulps, and made up her mind that she
could not stand that any way. She preferred bread and water. So, for
supper she took bread and water and nothing else, and went up to bed us
unhappy and nervous as a healthy, growing child well could be.

She had tried the mush, and the bread and water, and now she meant to
try the shorn head, which was the hardest of all, for she had a pride in
her hair, which so many had told her was beautiful.

Standing before her little glass, with the lamp beside her, she looked
at it admiringly for a while, turning her head from side to side to see
the bright ringlets glisten; then, with an unsteady hand the severed,
one by one, the shining tresses, on which her tears fell like rain as
she gathered them in a pap