y had made himself so unpopular by
his cruelty, and by his overbearing ways, that nobody except Paul felt
very sorry for him. When it was learned that he had received his
injuries in consequence of his persecution of Derrick Sterling, the
general verdict was that he was rightly served.

The injured boy was carried to his home, whither Paul accompanied him;
but the latter was so frightened by the outcries of Mrs. Tooley when she
learned what had happened that he hurried away without entering the
house. On his way home he stopped at the Sterlings' to inquire if
Derrick were really safe, and was much comforted to learn that he had
just come in and gone to bed--"Where you should be yourself, Paul," said
Mrs. Sterling, kindly, as she bade him good-night.

As the tired but light-hearted boy hobbled into his own home, his
father, who had sat up waiting for him, without knowing where he had
been, roughly ordered him to bed, saying it was no time of night for
lads like him to be prowling about the street.

The sensitive little fellow went up-stairs without a word, all his
light-heartedness dispelled by this harsh reception, and the tears
starting to his eyes. His back ached so from his unwonted exertions that
even after he got to bed he tossed and tumbled feverishly for several
hours before falling into a troubled sleep.

Tom Evert left his house earlier than usual the next morning, and went
to the mouth of the slope, where he found a number of his friends
assembled. They began to congratulate him, and continued to do so until
in great bewilderment he exclaimed,

"What's it for, mates? Is it a joke?"

"For thy son, man."

"For my son? which of 'em?"

"Thy crippled lad, Paul, of course. Is the man daft?"

"No; but I think ye must be, to be running on in such a fashion about a
lad that's not only a wellnigh helpless cripple, but I'm afeared is
going bad ways. 'Twas nearer midnight nor sundown before he came in frae
t' street last night, and I sent him to bed wi' a flea in his ear."

A perfect roar of laughter greeted this speech.

"Wellnigh helpless, is he?" cried one. "Well, if he's helpless I'd like
to know what you'd name helpful?"

"Going to the bad, is he?"

"Out late o' nights! That's a good one."

"An' yez sint him to bed wid a flea in his ear, an' him just afther
doin' the dade should mak' ye the proudest fayther in de place! Did iver
I moind de likes of that?"

These and many similar expressions greeted