e more than an ordinary
measure of courage to approach him now. Why, it would be braving the
lions, actually tempting fate to go to him with a confession when he
looked like this. Would it not be much wiser to wait?

With a sharp swerve they turned in at the gate and rolled up the long
driveway; then the front door burst open and from it issued not only
Mrs. Tolman and Doris but with them the girl with the wonderful hair,
Jane Harden, whom he had seen at Northampton. A hubbub of greeting
ensued and in the interchange of gay conversation all thought of
confession was swept from Stephen's mind.

Nor in the days that followed, with their round of skating, hockey,
snow-shoeing, and holiday festivities, did the inclination to revert to
the follies of the past arise. The big red touring-car was sent away
without further allusion to its battered condition and with its
departure the last link with the misfortunes that tormented him seemed
destroyed. Once, it is true, when he overheard his father telling his
mother that the bill for repainting and varnishing the car was going to
be very large, his conscience smote him. But what, he argued, could he
do? Even were he to come forward now and shoulder the blame it would not
reduce the expense of which his father complained. He had no money.
Therefore he decided it was better to close his ears and try and forget
the entire affair. His father had evidently accepted the calamity with
resignation and made up his mind to bear the consequences without
further demur. Why not let the matter rest there? At this late date it
would be absurd to speak, especially when it could not alter the
situation.

In the meantime letters came from Mr. Ackerman and from Dick. The latter
was very happy at the New Haven school and was making quite a record for
himself, and it was easy to detect between the lines of the steamboat
magnate's epistle that he was much gratified by the progress of his
protege. Thanksgiving would soon be here and if the Tolmans still
extended their invitation for the holidays the two New Yorkers would be
glad to accept it.

"I'll write Ackerman to-day," announced Mr. Tolman at breakfast. "The
invitation has hung on Stephen and Dick, and I am glad to say they each
have made good. How fine that that little East Side chap should have
turned out so well! I don't wonder Ackerman is pleased. Everybody does
not get appreciation in return for kindness. I know many a parent whose
childr