harply.

"Why, you see, 'squire, 'twas just like this," returned Tip.
"After I'd done it, if I had hurt Prescott, then I was goin' to
go to your son an' scare 'im good an' proper by threatenin' to
blab that he had hired me to use them brickbats. That'd been
good fer all his spendin' money, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, and for all he could steal, too," replied Lawyer Ripley.

"I didn't know nothing about his stealin' money," retorted Tip,
half virtuously. "I jest thought he had too much pocket money
fer his own good, an' so I'd help him spend some of it. But,
see here, lawyer, ye promised me that, if I did talk, nothin'
I told yer should be used against myself."

"I am prepared to keep that promise," replied Mr. Ripley coldly.

The sound of a slight stir came from the doorway between the outer
and inner office. There in the doorway, his face ghastly white,
his whole body seeming devoid of strength, leaned Fred Ripley.

"I had almost forgotten that I asked you to come here," said Mr.
Ripley, as he looked up. "How long have you been here?"

"Not very long, perhaps, but long enough to know that Dick Prescott
and the rest have been doing all they can to make matters harder
for me," Fred answered in a dispirited voice.

"As it happens, they have been doing nothing of the sort," replied
the lawyer crisply. "Come in here, Fred. I have had the whole
story of your doings, but it was on a pledge that I would give
you another chance to show whether there's any good in you. Fred,
I can understand, now that you've always thought yourself better
than most boys---above them. The truth is that you've a long
way to go to get up to the level of ordinary, decent, good American
boyhood. You may get there yet; I hope so. But come, sir, are
you going to make a decent apology to Prescott and his friends
for the contemptible things you've tried to do to them?"

Somehow, Fred Ripley managed to mumble his way through an apology,
though he kept his eyes on the floor all the while. Full of
sympathy for the father who, if proud, was at least upright,
Dick and his chums accepted that apology, offered their hands,
then tip-toed out, leaving father and son together.

CHAPTER XXII

ALL ROADS LEAD TO THE SWIMMING POOL

In the next few weeks, if Fred Ripley didn't improve greatly in
popularity, he was at all events vastly quieter and more reserved
in his manner.

Tip Scammon had vanished, so far as common knowledge went. Mr.