happy-go-lucky lad but in his homely, freckled face there was a winsome
manliness. Whatever the scrapes he got into through sheer love of fun it
was characteristic of him that he was always courageous enough to
confess to them. This was the first inkling he had had that Stephen had
not acquainted his father with the escapade of the previous week and
such a course was so at variance with his own frank nature that he was
aghast. Even now he waited, expecting his pal would offer the true
explanation of the mystery under discussion. He was ready to bear his
share of the blame,--bear more than belonged to him if he could lighten
Steve's sentence of punishment.

But the silence remained unbroken and the words he expected to hear did
not come. A wave of surprise swept over his face, surprise followed by a
growing scorn. It came to him in a flash that Stephen Tolman, the boy he
had looked up to as a sort of idol, was a coward, a coward! He was
afraid! It seemed impossible. Why, Steve was always in the thick of the
football skirmishes, never shrinking from the roughness of the game; he
was a fearless hockey player, a dauntless fighter. Coward was the last
name one would have thought of applying to him. And yet here he sat
cowering before the just result of his conduct. Bud was disappointed,
ashamed; he turned away his head but not before the wretched lad who
confronted him had caught in his glance the same contemptuous expression
he had seen in O'Malley's face.

Again Stephen was despised and knew it.

Nevertheless it would not do to betray his secret now. He must not show
that he was disconcerted. At every cost he must brazen out the affair.
He had gone too far to do otherwise. He wondered as he sat there if any
one suspected him; if his father, whose eye was as keen as that of an
eagle, had put together any of the threads of evidence. He might be
cherishing suspicions this very moment. It seemed impossible that he
shouldn't. If only he would speak and have it over! Anything would be
better than this suspense and uncertainty.

Mr. Tolman, however, maintained unwonted stillness and save for a
restless twitching of his fingers on the wheel of the car did not move.
If, thought Steve miserably, he could summon the nerve to look up, he
would know in a second from his father's face whether he was annoyed or
angry. At last the situation became unbearable and come what might he
raised his eyes. To his amazement his father was sitti