“O Max! the wicked old wretch!” cried Lulu, between her clenched teeth.  “What did you do?  You couldn’t tell a lie!”

“No, I thought I couldn’t, Lu; and oh, I’m so ashamed!” said Max, growing very red and tears starting to his eyes.  “But he beat me, and beat me, and beat me till I thought he’d kill me; and so to stop him at last I said I took it.  But I didn’t gain anything, for of course he asked next where it was, and I couldn’t tell him, because I didn’t know.  So he began again; but I fainted, and I suppose that scared him and made him stop.  He didn’t say anything more about the padlock till weeks afterward it was found in the hay, and it was clear that I hadn’t anything to do with it.”

“Oh, the old wretch!” cried Lulu again.  “Did he tell you then he was sorry for having abused you so when you were innocent?”

“No, indeed! not he!  He said, ’Well, you didn’t deserve it that time, but I’ve no doubt you’ve escaped many a time when you did.’”

“Max, I’d never stand it!  I’d run away!” exclaimed Lulu, stopping short and facing her brother with eyes that fairly blazed with indignation.

“I’ve thought of that, Lu; I’ve felt tempted to do it more than once,” Max said with a sigh; “but I thought how papa would feel hearing of it.  I’d rather bear it all than have him feel that his son had done anything to disgrace him.”

“Max, you’re better than I am!” cried Lulu with affectionate warmth.  “I’d never have thought of anything but how to get away as fast as possible from that horrid, horrid beast of a man.”

“Papa thinks he’s good, and that’s the reason he put me with him.  Oh, but don’t I wish he knew the truth!”

“I should think the old rascal would be afraid of what papa may do when he comes and hears all the things you’ll have to tell.”

“I suppose he thinks papa will believe his story instead of mine; and perhaps he will,” said Max a little sadly.

“No; don’t you be one bit afraid of that!” cried Lulu, hotly.  “Papa knows you’re a truthful boy.  His children couldn’t be liars!”

“But you know I can’t say any more that I’ve never told an untruth,” said Max, coloring painfully.

“Well, you couldn’t help it,” Lulu said, trying to comfort him.  “I’m afraid that I might have done it myself to keep from being killed.”

“Hello! here comes Jim!” cried Max with a sudden change of tone, his face brightening wonderfully as a lad somewhat older in appearance than himself, and carrying a fishing-rod over his shoulder, came hurrying down a lane and joined them.

“Hello!  Max,” he said; “we’ve a splendid day for fishing, haven’t we?” Then in a whisper, “Who’s this you’re taking along?”

“My sister Lulu,” Max answered aloud.  “She’ll help us dig worms for bait, won’t you, Lu?”

“Yes, if you’ll let me fish a little after you’ve caught some.”

“Good-morning, Miss Lulu,” said Jim, lifting his hat.