man looked across the big yard at
one side of the cottage.

"Where can that boy be?" Mrs. Henderson murmured. "I saw him here
a little while ago. He's never around when I want him. I
shouldn't be surprised but what he was planning some joke. Oh,
dear! I wish he was more steady, and wasn't always up to some
mischief. Still, he's a good boy at heart, and perhaps he'll grow
better when he gets older."

She rubbed her left cheek with the back of her hand, leaving a big
patch of flour under one eye. Then she called once more.

"Bob! Bob Henderson! Where are you? I want you to go to the
store."

"Here I am, mother. Were you calling me?" asked a boy, emerging
from behind a big apple tree.

He was not a bad-looking lad, even if his nose did turn up a bit,
though his hair was tinged with red, and his face covered with
freckles. His blue eyes, however, seemed to sparkle with mischief.

"Did I call you?" repeated Mrs. Henderson. "I'm hoarse after the
way I had to shout--and you within hearing distance all the while!
Why didn't you answer me?"

"I guess I was so busy thinking, mom, that I didn't hear you."

"Thinking? More likely thinking of some trick! What's that you've
got?"

"Nothing," and Bob tried to stuff pieces of paper into a basket
that was already filled to overflowing.

"Yes, 'tis too something. You're making some more of those paper
snappers that the teacher kept you in after school for the other
night. Bob, can't you settle down and not be always up to some
trick?"

"I wasn't making these for myself, mom, honest I wasn't,"
expostulated Bob, with an innocent look that did not seem in accord
with the mischief in his blue eyes. "I was making 'em for Jimmy
Smith."

"Yes, and Jimmy Smith would pop 'em off in school, and when he got
caught he'd say you gave 'em to him, and you'd both be kept in.
Oh, Bob, I don't know what will happen to you next!"

"Why, I wasn't doing anything, honest I wasn't, mom. Oh, how funny
you look with that patch of flour on your cheek! Just like a clown
in a circus, only he has white stuff all over his face."

"Well, I must say, Bob Henderson, you're not very complimentary to
your mother, telling her she looks like a circus clown."

"I didn't say you did, mom. You only look like half a clown."

"That's just as bad."

Bob took advantage of this little diversion to hide the paper
snappers behind the tree while his mother was wiping the flour off
her face