"I wish that I had not spoken like that to him."  
So Ralph Rexworth mused as he left the study and went along the corridor—anger at the violent outburst and the accusation which Charlton had hurled at him, he felt none.
 
A muffled sound broke upon his ears—the sound of some one sobbing violently, and he stopped, peering along the corridor until he made out the form of his former chum. Charlton had flung himself down full length, and was crying as if his heart would break.
 
It was more than Ralph could stand—he went up to him and laid a hand upon the prostrate boy's shoulder.
 
"Charlton," he said kindly, "don't cry. I am awfully sorry that I have offended you, and that we have quarrelled. I did not mean to do it. Won't you get up and shake hands with me?"
 
"No!" came the broken answer. "Go away, I don't want you! You were the only chum that I had, and now you say that I am a thief! I never said a word against you. I told Dobson that he was telling lies when he said that you had stolen the note, and he[Pg 132] beat me. I did not mind that, because I was trying to stick up for you; and now you say I stole it!"
 
"Come, shake hands," pleaded Ralph, feeling somehow that he was on the wrong track. "I am sorry."
 
"You ought to have known how it feels to be called a thief," the other lad continued. "You are not my chum—I don't care about you being strong and me being weak—I don't want to be your chum. I know that my father was called a thief, but it was not true—he never did anything wrong—and I know that people sneer at me. But I am not a thief—I never stole anything, and you, seeing what Elgert has said about your father, and that you have been accused, might have been a little more kind to me."
 
"Well, I have said that I am sorry. Won't you shake hands?" said Ralph again. "And I had a note from Mr. St. Clive, and he told me to ask you and Warren to come over to-morrow. Won't you come?"
 
"No," answered Charlton. "You don't want boys there who have convict fathers, and who you believe to be thieves. You go away, Ralph Rexworth. We shall never be friends any more until you have been proved wrong. When I can prove to you that I had no hand in taking that note, then we will be chums again.
 
"And," he added, sitting up, "it is a wicked, wicked lie to say that I was with any man in those woods. It is not true, and you are making it up. There—go away, and make what chums you like. I suppose that we[Pg 133] must still share the same study! I won't worry you with my presence very much, I can promise you; but I won't make friends, and I won't forgive you, and I won't take back one word of what I have said that I believe about you—not even if you beat me—and you are strong enough to do that, I know."
 
"I am sorry. I don't want to beat you, Charlton," responded Ralph, "and I am very grieved that we are not to be chums. Perhaps after Sunday you will think differently."
 
"I will never think differently—never—never!" cried Charlton. And jumping up he rushed off, leaving Ralph to continue his way alone, and somewhat heavy-hearted, for he had a genuine liking for the lonely, sad-faced boy, and was indeed truly sorry that he had said anything to cause him such pain and grief.
 
"Hallo, Rexworth! What have you been doing with Charlton?" asked Warren, meeting him in the playground a little later. "He rushed across here a little while ago as though he were training for a race; and when I asked him if he had seen you, he said that he didn't know anything about you, and that he didn't want to know, either. Whatever have you done to upset him in that way?"
 
"We have had a bit of a quarrel," answered Ralph. "Don't ask me about it, old fellow, for I don't want to talk of it. I hope that he will be all right again next week. By the way, Mr. St. Clive has asked me whether[Pg 134] you would care to come over and spend the afternoon with me to-morrow."
 
"Will a duck like to swim when it gets enough water to paddle its little tootsies in?" laughed Warren. "My dear chap, I will come on the wings of greased lightning. I must go home and tell the mater first though, or she will wonder what has become of me—fancy that I have met with an accident, or something. Fellows ought not to be careless about such things as that. Then I will come on, if that will do, and—great guns! there goes the bell, and it is my turn to see the school ready for calling over. I am off"—and away Warren sped as fast as he could run.
 
The evening passed, the following morning came and went, and still Charlton gave Ralph no opportunity for renewing his offer of friendship. He looked pale, miserable, but determined—Ralph had wounded him to the very soul, and he would not—could not indeed—forget or forgive it.
 
The hour of departure came, and still Charlton avoided Ralph. They left without wishing each other good-bye, and Ralph set out for Mr. St. Clive's, feeling disappointed and heavy-hearted.
 
But disappointment and heavy-heartedness could not long find place in that bright home. The very first greeting, the warm handshake of Mr. St. Clive, the smile of his wife and the rush with which Irene came to greet him, altogether united to banish every melancholy thought, and to bring sunshine to his heart.
 
[Pg 135]
 
And what a circle of sympathetic listeners he had when he told them about the theft, and how he had chanced to be upon the scene. And both Irene and Mrs. Clive laughed, and were at the same time very indignant that any one should dare to suppose, even for one moment, that Ralph could possibly be a thief.
 
But Mr. St. Clive looked grave, for he could see how hard this was for the lad, and could understand what a big fight it must have been for Ralph.
 
"Never fear, my boy," he said when the story was told. "It is hard, but the tr............