or, and----"

"Let's call to Mrs. Kukor!" she pleaded. "Let's try to make her hear!"

"He'll whip us again if we do!" Johnnie cautioned. "And, Cis, I don't
think I could stand any more whippin'. Oh, don't holler, Cis. Let's
rest--jus' rest!" A weakness came over him suddenly, and he could not go
on.

But she was sobbing again. "I'm thirsty!" she lamented. "I'm thirsty!
I'm thirsty! I'm thirsty!"

Presently he roused himself, and remembered his faithful Buckle. He
summoned the latter now, speaking to him in that throaty, important
voice which he used when issuing commands. "Mister Buckle," he said,
"bring the young lady a lemon soda jus' chock-full o' ice."

"No! No!" Cis broke in petulantly. "Oh, that makes it all the harder to
bear!--Oh, where's Mrs. Kukor? She knows something's wrong! Why hasn't
she helped us?" She fell to weeping irritably.

At his wits' end, Johnnie racked his brain for something to tell
her--something which might take her thoughts from her misery. But his
own misery was now great, for the clothesline was cutting into his
wrists and ankles; while across the front of his body, the edge of the
table was pressing into him like the blade of a dull knife. "But I'll
stand it," he promised himself. "And I'll try t' be cheerful, like the
Handbook says."

However, there was no immediate need for his cheerfulness, for Cis had
quieted. A few moments, and he heard her deep breathing. He smiled
through the dark at her, happy to think that sleep had come to help her
over the long night hours. As for himself, he could not sleep, weak as
he was. His heart was sore because of what he had lost--his new,
wonderful uniform, and all his dear, dear books. What were all these
now? Just a bit of gray dust in the cooling stove! Gone! Gone forever!

Ah, but _were_ they! The suit was. Yes, he would not be able ever again
to wear that--not actually. But the books--? They were also destroyed,
as completely as the khaki uniform. And yet--_had_ Big Tom really done
to them what he wanted to do? _Had_ he wiped them out?

No!

And as Johnnie answered himself thus, he realized the truth of a certain
statement which Father Pat had once made to him: "The only possessions
in this world that can't be taken away from ye, lad dear, 're the
thoughts, the ideas, the knowledge that ye've got in yer brain." And
along with his sudden understanding of this there came a sense of joyous
wonder, and a feeling of utter triumph. His preci