Mr. Henderson said nothing.  He took two dollars from his wallet—­a wallet that did not have any too much money in it—­and handed the bills to the storekeeper, who eagerly pocketed them.

“When kin ye give me some more?” he asked.

“Next week.  I am sorry, Mr. Hodge, that my son did this.”

“So am I. But I s’pose boys will be boys.”

Mr. Hodge seemed in better mood.  The truth was, he had not expected to receive any money, and as he was a sort of miser, it made him feel better to think he was going to get damages without having to pay a lawyer.  In reality, not more than fifty cents’ worth of molasses had run to waste.

When the storekeeper had left Mr. Henderson further questioned Bob, getting all the particulars of the trick.

“I’m sorry, dad,” said Bob when he had finished his recital.

“That is what you say every time, my son.  You said it after you frightened Mrs. Anderson’s cow and they had to have the veterinarian for the animal, but that did not pay his bill.  I had to settle for it,”

“I know, dad.  I’ll not do it again.”

“And that’s another thing you always say, Bob.  Now this is getting serious.  You must mend your ways.  This will be quite a heavy expense to me.  I was going to spend that two dollars for a new pair of shoes.  Now I will have to wait.”

“I’m sorry, dad.”

“But that doesn’t give me my shoes,”

Mr. Henderson spoke gravely, and Bob felt quite badly over what he had done, for he loved his father and mother very much, and would not intentionally pain them.  The trouble was he was, like many other boys, thoughtless.  He did not count the consequences when indulging in pranks.

A little later, after giving his son quite a severe lecture, and obtaining his promise to be better in the future, Mr. Henderson prepared to go to bed.  Bob also retired to his room, for he felt in no mood to go out with the village boys that night.

“I’m sure I don’t know what to do with Bob,” said Mrs. Henderson to her husband when she was locking up the house.  “I’m afraid he’ll get into serious trouble.”

“I hope not.  I think I must punish him severely the next time he plays any tricks.”

“He is too big to whip.”

“I know it.  I must think of some other method.”

Bob fell asleep, resolving to mend his ways, or at least to play in the future only harmless tricks to which no one would object.  But in the morning his good resolutions had lost some of their power, like many others made during the night.

That day in school Bob snapped several of the paper crackers, and in consequence was kept in.  However, his mother was visiting a neighbor, and when he came home late that afternoon she did not see him.

That evening Ted Neefus called for Bob.  They were chums of long standing.

“Let’s take a walk,” suggested Ted.