so ill; Hubert was too
young, they felt, to go to his sister; so it was Archie who finally
volunteered to bring back the runaway.

"Shall I scold her very hard?" he asked, laughing, as he took up his
dress-suit case, an hour later.

"Leave that to me," the doctor replied, while he tried in vain to look
stern.

As Archie passed him, Billy slipped a note into his hand.

"Take that to Ted," he whispered, and Archie nodded.

It was high noon, the next day, when Archie walked into the Lodge.
Theodora met him with a little, glad outcry.

"Archie! Did you come for me?"

"It looks like it. What's more, I've brought good news."

"What?"

"Billy is cleared, and I left the whole family munching humble pie."

"Archie!" And Theodora cast herself into his arms and wept hysterically.

The young man looked half abashed, half pleased, at his burden.

"Go easy, now, Ted," he remonstrated. "Don't take all the starch out of
my collar, you know."

"Who did it?" she demanded.

"Phebe."

"Archie Holden! The little wretch! And she let Billy bear the blame!
I--"

"She's getting her come-uppance," Archie observed, with scant pity for
Phebe. "She's no end ill with chicken pox. That's the reason your father
couldn't come for you."

"I don't care; she deserves it," Theodora said vengefully. "How did it
come out?"

"Providence seemed to take a hand in it, Ted. 'Twas the queerest thing.
The night after you left, when the family were all half wild about you,
and no wonder, Babe took her hand in the game by coming down with hen
pox. She caught cold somehow, the rash went in and struck on the brain,
and she turned delirious. The first thing she did, she told the whole
story. I suppose she had been harping on it so much that it came out,
like murder."

"What did she do?"

"As nearly as we can piece it together, she and Isabel went into the
barn, that morning, and started to feed Vigil. Then in fun they began
firing things at each other, till at last Babe picked up a box of Paris
green and shied it at Isabel. It struck the manger and broke all to
pieces. They cleaned up what they could, and sneaked away. Whether Babe
started to throw the blame on Billy at first, they don't know; but,
after dinner, Babe hunted up the bottle and hid it in the manger. It
isn't a pretty story, Ted; but it's true."

"Babe ought to be--"

"Abolished," Archie supplemented, with a jovial laugh. "No matter, your
father will have something to say to h