k. The narration seemed to Bill like a story from
a book. He had the illusion, again, of not being a party to the events
at all, but just a spectator. Then the thought of his ingratitude came
back full force. The kindly and tactful deeds of Father Boone bored into
his soul like a red hot iron. What an ingrate he was. Hero! indeed. Such
a hero!

While he was thus reflecting, the nurse came over and informed his
mother that it was time to go now, as the doctors would be in soon.
Reluctantly she bade good-bye to her boy. Wiser by experience, she did
not embrace him, but just bent low and kissed him gently on the
forehead.

(II)

The doctors made their usual round of the ward, and when they came to
Daly, the physician who had dressed his bruises the night before
remarked, "Here's the hero kid." The head doctor looked at him kindly.
"Well, little man," he said, "the next time you go to a fire, send us
word so we can see you perform." They all laughed at this, and Bill
smiled. After the examination, the doctor assured him, "Nothing the
matter, my boy. You're sound as a dollar, just a little shaken up and
bruised; and you'll be out in a few days."

When Mrs. Daly came in again about four o'clock in the afternoon, she
was over-joyed to hear the good report of her son's condition. She saw
now, however, that he was very serious. Indeed, it had been the most
serious day of his life.

All day long Bill had been reflecting on what his mother had told him of
Father Boone and of Frank. He had begun to realize that he had something
to do besides being grateful to them both. There was a duty to perform.
It had been hard to go to the Club when he intended to tell them about
the breakage. And now it seemed ten times harder. How could he do it?
After all the goodness shown him, to be obliged to admit that he was a
thug. The thought had tortured him all the day. It was still racking his
mind when his mother came in.

If only Father Boone would come around, he reflected. It would be easier
to make a clean breast of it to him. He would understand. Father Boone
seemed to understand everything. He'd see, too, that the Bill who had
done the rough stuff was changed. He'd know without a lot of explaining,
how some things hurt more than pain. The thing to do was to tell Father
Boone and let it all rest with him.

That was Bill's conclusion and his resolve. He did not dare tell his
mother. He wondered how much the boys knew. His mother, s