fight error, Miss Forsyth."

"At any rate it's brave of you to try--to do what you think is right." And
now it seemed she was trying to find something that would comfort
him--just as she had once given Robert peppermint balls when he had hurt
himself. "If ever you feel inclined, won't you come again--and read to
us?"

He looked at her with dark, tragic eyes.

"Thank you, thank you."

Robert went with him to the door, and for a moment he wavered on the
steps, blinking, and squeezing his soft hat between his bony hands.

"A great woman--a kind woman--you must be worth her while, Stonehouse."

And then, without so much as a "good night," he limped down the steps and
along the street, flitting in and out of the lamplight like a hunted bat.

It was the first of many tiresome evening visits. But the next day he was
always himself again, and the class wilted under his merciless,
contemptuous sarcasms. Only Robert was not afraid. He knew that the lash
would never come his way, and he could feel the little man's unspoken
pride, when he showed himself quicker than his companions, like a secret
Masonic pressure of the hand. And there was something else. It was a
discovery that made him at first almost dizzy with astonishment. He
wasn't stupid. Just as he was stronger, so he was cleverer than boys
older than himself. He could do things at once over which they botched
and bungled. He outstripped them when he chose. Even his ignorance did
not handicap him for long. For Mr. Ricardo had kept his promise. He
taught well, and in those long afternoons in the hot boarding-house attic
Robert had raced over the lost ground. He did not always want to work.
He gazed out of the window, half his mind busy planning what he and Rufus
Cosgrave would do when they met at the corner of the street, but he could
not help understanding what was so obvious, and there were moments when
sheer interest swept him off his feet, and even Rufus was forgotten. He
took an audacious pleasure, too, in leaping suddenly over the heads of the
whole class to the first place. He did not always bother. He liked to
wait for some really teasing question, and then, when silence had become
hopeless, hold up his hand. Mr. Ricardo would look towards him,
apparently incredulous and satirical, but Robert could read the message
which the narrowed eyes twinkled at him.

"Of course you understand, Stonehouse."

And then he would answer and sweep the sullen