r. I don't know what to
do. I want to take the stand that will be of true benefit to the boys,
not merely now but later."

So reflecting, he reached the rectory. A few minutes later, the light in
his room was out and he had finished a busy and painful day.

Meanwhile, Frank saw Mrs. Daly home, and in a little while he was
dismissing the chauffeur at his own door. Quickly he ran up the steps of
his apartment house and in a moment had climbed the three flights of
stairs. Everybody was in bed but his mother. Her first words were, "O my
boy, what has happened to you? I was alarmed at your staying out so
late."

Frank felt he should at least give some account of himself at once. In
the most matter of fact way, he narrated the evening's events. But his
mother discerned his generous heart beneath his words, and she was proud
of him--so brave and so tender. And especially was she glad that Father
Boone had found Frank at the hospital with Mrs. Daly. She knew how that
would affect the misunderstanding, and she was more than satisfied with
the turn of affairs when Frank finished his recital by saying, "I tell
you, mother, Father Boone is a brick." Then, as he feared that this did
not convey a great deal of meaning to her, he added, "He is 'some' man."

"And somebody is 'some' boy," echoed his mother, kissing him good-night.

Frank went to his room, said his prayers and jumped into bed. "I'll
sleep until noon," he muttered, as he got under the covers. He closed
his eyes, but although he was dead tired, he could not sleep. Indeed, it
seemed he was more wide awake than at midday. The clock struck twelve,
and still his mind was all activity.

He saw himself chatting with Daly--heard the fire-clang--saw Bill run
up the ladder--beheld him waver, totter and fall--saw his limp body in
the net--heard the afflicted mother speak of her Willie--her good boy
Willie, whom the boys called "Bull". And then there was Father Boone,
always in the right place, and doing the proper thing, cool, firm, kind,
commanding. And this was the man he was on the outs with. Was it more
likely that a boy like himself would be wrong or Father Boone?

"I'm a boob," he accused himself. "I should have gone to him at the
start. Even if he were cross--most likely he'd heard there was a row,
and I was in it. Then, of course, he'd feel hurt that I hadn't shown him
more confidence. But great guns! I did go up to make a clean breast of
it, and got 'cold feet'. But