riminal; but it is hard for a
high-spirited lad to yield to a brutal threat.

Jack caught sight of Susan Lanham telegraphing from behind the master,
by spelling with her fingers:

"Tell or run."

But he could not make up his mind to do either, though Bob Holliday had
again mysteriously opened the western door.

The master summoned all his strength and struck him half a dozen blows,
that made poor Jack writhe. Then he walked up and down the room awhile,
to give the victim time to consider whether he would tell or not.

"Run," spelled out Susan on her fingers.

"The school-house is on fire!" called out Bob Holliday. Some of the
coals that had spilled from the capsized stove were burning the
floor--not dangerously, but Bob wished to make a diversion. He rushed
for a pail of water in the corner, and all the rest, aching with
suppressed excitement, crowded around the fallen stove, so that it was
hard for the master to tell whether there was any fire or not. Bob
whispered to Jack to "cut sticks," but Jack only went to his seat.

"Lay hold, boys, and let's put up the stove," said Bob, taking the
matter quite out of the master's hands. Of course, the stove-pipe would
not fit without a great deal of trouble. Did ever stove-pipe go together
without trouble? Somehow, all the joints that Bob joined together flew
asunder over and over again, though he seemed to work most zealously to
get the stove set up. After half an hour of this confusion, the pipe was
fixed, and the master, having had time, like the stove, to cool off, and
seeing Jack bent over his book, concluded to let the matter drop. But
there are some matters that, once taken up, are hard to drop.

CHAPTER X

JACK AND HIS MOTHER

Jack went home that night very sore on his back and in his feelings. He
felt humiliated to be beaten like a dog, and even a dog feels degraded
in being beaten. He told his mother about it--the tall, dignified,
sweet-faced mother, patient in trouble and full of a goodness that did
not talk much about goodness. She always took it for granted that _her_
boy would not do anything mean, and thus made a healthy atmosphere for a
brave boy to grow in. Jack told her of his whipping, with some heat,
while he sat at supper. She did not say much then, but after Jack's
evening chores were all finished, she sat down by the candle where he
was trying to get out some sums, and questioned him carefully.

"Why didn't you tell who did it?" she as