With a loud cry a woman came running down the path.

"Tommy," she said. "My little darling Tommy. I thought you were lost!"
She turned furiously to William. "You ought to be ashamed of
yourself," she said. "A great boy of your age leading a little child
like this into mischief! If his father was here, he'd show you. You
ought to know better! And you a scout."

William gasped.

[Illustration: SHE TURNED FURIOUSLY TO WILLIAM. "YOU OUGHT TO BE
ASHAMED OF YOURSELF," SHE SAID.]

"Well!" he said. "An' I've bin doin' deeds of kindness on him all
morning. I've----"

She turned away indignantly, holding Thomas's hand.

"You're never to go with that nasty rough boy again, darling," she
said.

"Got lots of wopses an' some fishes," murmured Thomas contentedly.

They disappeared down the path. With a feeling of depression and
disillusionment William turned to go home.

Then his spirits rose. After all, he'd got rid of Thomas, and he was
going home to a contrite family. It must be about supper-time. It
would be getting dark soon. But it still stayed light a long time now.
It wouldn't matter if he just got in for supper. It would have given
them time to think things over. He could see his father speaking
unsteadily, and holding out his hand.

"My boy ... let bygones be bygones ... if there is anything you
want...."

His father had never said anything of this sort to him yet, but, by a
violent stretch of imagination, he could just conceive it.

His mother, of course, would cry over him, and so would Ethel.

"Dear William ... do forgive us ... we have been so miserable since
you went away ... we will never treat you so again."

This again was unlike the Ethel he knew, but sorrow has a refining
effect on all characters.

He entered the gate self-consciously. Ethel was at the front-door. She
looked at his torn shirt and mud-caked knees.

"You'd better hurry if you're going to be ready for lunch," she said
coldly.

"Lunch?" faltered William. "What time is it?"

"Ten to one. Father's in, so I warn you," she added unpleasantly.

He entered the house in a dazed fashion. His mother was in the hall.

"_William!_" she said impatiently. "Another shirt torn! You really are
careless. You'll have to stop being a scout if that's the way you
treat your clothes. And _look_ at your knees!"

Pale and speechless, he went towards the stairs. His father was coming
out of the library smoking a pipe. He looked at his son grimly.