ions, and, to Dick's great satisfaction,
ate all that had been brought him with evident appetite.

"I feel a good deal better," he said as he took the hoe once more and
set to work. "I feel strong now."

"It's lucky I came along. I say. Bill, is that your only punishment?"

A shadow came over Bill's face.

"I am to be flogged this evening," he said. "Mr. Badger told me so, and
he always keeps his word."

Dick set his teeth and clinched his fists.

"I'd like to flog old Badger," he said energetically. "Are you going to
stand it?"

"I can't help it, Dick."

"I'd help it!" said his friend, nodding emphatically.

Bill shook his head despondently.

The whipping seemed to him inevitable, and there seemed to be no way of
avoiding it.

"What time do you expect he will whip you--the old brute?" asked Dick.

"He waits till nine o'clock, just after I have gone to bed."

"Then will you follow my advice?"

"What is it?"

Dick whispered in Bill's ear the plan he had in view. There was no need
to whisper, but he did it to show that the communication was
confidential.

This was the plan:

Bill was to go to bed as usual, but in about fifteen minutes he was to
get out of the window, slide along the roof of the L and descend to the
ground, when Dick was to meet him, escort him to his house and allow him
to share his room for the night.

"Then," said he, "when the old man comes up to tackle you he'll have to
pound the bed and get his satisfaction out of that. Won't that be a
splendid joke?"

Bill smiled faintly. It seemed to him a daring defiance of Mr. Badger,
but, after all, he wouldn't fare any worse than he was sure of doing,
and he finally acquiesced, though with serious doubts as to the
propriety of the plan.

"Don't say a word to let 'em know what you're going to do. Bill--mind
that!"

"No, I won't."

"You'll be sure to find me waiting for you outside the house, just at
the back of the barn. I'll give you some supper when you reach the
house."

When the bound boy came from work in the evening he met stern, cold
looks from Mr. and Mrs. Badger, but Andrew Jackson wore a look of
triumphant malice. He was gloating over the punishment in reserve for
the boy whom he so groundlessly hated.

"Ain't you hungry?" he said tauntingly.

Bill looked at him, but did not answer.

"Oh, you needn't answer. I know you are," said the young tyrant. "You
didn't like it very much, going without your dinner. You ain't g