idn't even tell me till last
fall. Your stupid secretiveness allowed me to go on getting into Percy's
debt, when a word from you might have saved me a lot of trouble."

"Will you kindly leave the room, George?" said his mother, arising.

"Percy is making himself fearfully obnoxious," went on George ominously.
"For nearly three weeks I've been dodging him, and it can't go on much
longer. One of these fine days, mother, a prominent member of the
Wintermill family is going to receive a far from exclusive thrashing.
That's the only way I can think of to stop him, if I can't raise the money
to pay him up. Some day I'm going to refrain from dodging and he is going
to run right square into this." He held up a brawny fist. "I'm going to
hold it just so, and it won't be too high for his nose, either. Then I'm
going to pick him up and turn him around, with his face toward the
Battery, and kick just as hard as I know how. I'll bet my head he'll not
bother me about money after that--unless, of course, he's cad enough to sue
me. I don't think he'll do that, however, being a proud and haughty
Wintermill. I suppose we'll all be eliminated from the Wintermill
invitation list after that, and it may be that we'll go without a
fashionable dinner once in awhile, but what's all that to the preservation
of the family dignity?"

Mrs. Tresslyn leaned suddenly against a chair, and even Anne turned to
regard her tall brother with a look of real dismay.

"How much do you owe him?" asked the former, controlling her voice with an
effort.

"Five hundred and sixty-five dollars, including interest. A pitiful sum to
get thrashed for, isn't it?"

"And you were planning to get the money from Mr. Thorpe to pay Percy?"

"To keep Percy from getting licked, would be the better way to put it. I
think it's uncommonly decent of me."

"You are--you are a bully, George,--a downright bully," flared Anne,
confronting him with blazing eyes. "You have no right to frighten mother
in this way. It's cowardly."

"He doesn't frighten me, dear," said Mrs. Tresslyn, but her lips quivered.
Turning to her son, she continued: "George, if you will mail a check to
Percy this minute, I will draw one for you. A Tresslyn cannot owe money to
a Wintermill. We will say no more about it. The subject is closed. Sit
down there and draw a check for the amount, and I will sign it. Rawson
will post it."

George turned his head away, and lowered his chin. A huskiness came
quickly