ess of the
meeting halves of the bridge as well as it knew oats. But it could not
enjoy its own entirely premeditated surprise quite so much as Bertie and
Billy were enjoying their entirely unpremeditated flight from Oscar. The
wind rippled on the water; down at the boat-house Smith was helping
some one embark in a single scull; they saw the green meadows toward
Brighton; their foreheads felt cool and unvexed, and each new minute had
the savor of fresh forbidden fruit.

"How do we go?" said Bertie.

"I forgot I had a bet with John until I had waked him," said Billy. "He
bet me five last night I couldn't find it, and I took him. Of course,
after that I had no right to ask him anything, and he thought I was
funny. He said I couldn't find out if the landlady's hair was her own. I
went him another five on that."

"How do you say we ought to go?" said Bertie, presently.

"Quincy, I'm sure."

They were now crossing the Albany tracks at Allston. "We're going to get
there," said Bertie; and he turned the black gelding toward Brookline
and Jamaica Plain.

The enchanting day surrounded them. The suburban houses, even the
suburban street-cars, seemed part of one great universal plan of
enjoyment. Pleasantness so radiated from the boys' faces and from their
general appearance of clean white flannel trousers and soft clean shirts
of pink and blue that a driver on a passing car leaned to look after
them with a smile and a butcher hailed them with loud brotherhood from
his cart. They turned a corner, and from a long way off came the sight
of the tower of Memorial Hall. Plain above all intervening tenements
and foliage it rose. Over there beneath its shadow were examinations
and Oscar. It caught Billy's roving eye, and he nudged Bertie, pointing
silently to it. "Ha, ha!" sang Bertie. And beneath his light whip the
gelding sprang forward into its stride.

The clocks of Massachusetts struck eleven. Oscar rose doubtfully from
his chair in Billy's study. Again he looked into Billy's bedroom and at
the empty bed. Then he went for a moment and watched the still forcibly
sleeping John. He turned his eyes this way and that, and after standing
for a while moved quietly back to his chair and sat down with the
leather wallet of notes on his lap, his knees together, and his
unblocked shoes touching. In due time the clocks of Massachusetts struck
noon.

In a meadow where a brown amber stream ran, lay Bertie and Billy on the
grass. Th