had young Edgar Danby in her mind, but was
about to propose some other young lad for her illustration; but the boy
had divined her thought, and she did not shrink now from the feeling
that above all things she must be frank if she wished her companion to
be.

"Yes; young Danby. Suppose you saw him torturing a frog, a lowly
reptile, but one of God's creatures, in that cruel way, what would you
say, now?"

"I should say he was a beast."

Helen winced again, for the declaration was more emphatic and to the
point than she had anticipated.

"And what would you do?" he continued.

"I'd punch his head, and take the frog away from him. Please, Miss
Grayson," he continued earnestly; "I didn't ever think it was like that.
We always used to do it--we boys always did, and--and--"

"You did not know then what you know now. Surely, Dexter, you will
never be so cruel again."

"If you don't want me to, I won't," he said quickly.

"Ah, but I want you to be frank and manly for a higher motive than that,
Dexter," she said, laying her hand upon his shoulder. "There, I will
not say any more now. What are you going to do!"

"Put him in the river, and let him swim away."

The boy darted to the side of the rippling stream, stooped down, and
lowered the hand containing the frog into the water, opened it, and for
a moment or two the half-dead reptile sat there motionless. Then there
was a vigorous kick, and it shot off into the clear water, diving right
down among the water weeds, and disappearing from their view.

"There!" said Dexter, jumping up and looking relieved. "You are not
cross with me now!"

"I have not been cross with you," she said; "only a little grieved."

"Couldn't he swim!" cried the boy, who was anxious to turn the
conversation. "I can swim like that, and dive too. We learned in our
great bath, and--Oh, I say, hark at the bullocks."

Helen listened, and could hear a low, muttering bellow in the next
meadow, accompanied by the dull sounds of galloping hoofs, which were
near enough to make the earth of the low, marshy bottom through which
the river ran quiver slightly where they stood.

Just then there was a piercing shriek, as of a woman in peril, and
directly after a man's voice heard shouting for help.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

RAMPANT BEEF.

"Here's something the matter!" cried Dexter; and, forgetting everything
in the excitement of the moment, he ran back as hard as he could tear to
the footpa