‘Bring the boy, then.  He will know what he was doing here,’ was Mrs. Tracy’s next peremptory remark, and her husband said to her, reproachfully: 

‘Surely you do not intend to charge him with the theft?’

’I charge no one with the theft until it is proven on him; but I must see the boy and know what he was doing here.  I never liked this free running in and out of those people in the lane.  I always knew something would come of it,’ Mrs. Tracy said, and Charles was despatched for Harold.

He found him mowing the lawn for a gentleman whose premises joined Tracy Park, and without any explanation told him that he was wanted immediately at the park house.

‘But it is noon,’ Harold said, glancing up at the sun.  ’And there is Jerry coming to call me to dinner.’

‘No; better come at once.  Jerry can go with you, if she likes,’ Charles said, feeling intuitively that in the little girl Harold would find a champion.

Harold left his lawn mower, and explaining to Jerry, who had come up to him, that he had been summoned to the park house, whither she could accompany him if she chose, he started with her and Charles, whom he questioned as to what was wanted with him.

’Were you in the park house the morning after the party?  That would be Wednesday,’ Charles asked.

’Yes, I went to see Mr. Arthur Tracy, but could get no answer to my knock,’ Harold promptly replied, while his face flushed scarlet, and he seemed annoyed at something.  He could not explain to Charles his motive in going to see Arthur, as, now that the first burst of indignation was over, he felt half ashamed of it himself.  On the afternoon of the day of the party he had been at Grassy Spring, helping Mrs. St. Claire with her flowers, and after his work was done he had gone with Dick into the billiard-room, where they found Tom Tracy and his friend, young Raymond.  They had come over for a game, and the four boys were soon busily engaged in the contest.  Harold, who had often played with Dick and was something of an expert, proved himself the most skilful of them all, greatly to the chagrin of Tom, who had not recognized him even by a nod.  Dick, on the contrary, had introduced him to Fred Raymond with as much ceremony as if he had been the Governor’s son, instead of the boy who sometimes worked in his mother’s flower garden.  And the Kentuckian had taken him by the hand and greeted him cordially, with a familiar: 

‘How d’ye do, Hastings?  Glad to make your acquaintance’

There was nothing snobbish about Fred Raymond, whose every instinct was gentlemanly and kind, and Harold felt at ease with him at once, and all through the game appeared at his best, and quite as well bred as either of his companions.

When the play was over Dick excused himself a moment, as he wished to speak with his father, who was about driving to town.  As he stayed away longer than he had intended doing, Tom grew restless and angry, too, that Fred should treat Harold Hastings as an equal, for the two had at once entered into conversation, comparing notes with regard to their standing in school and discussing the merits of Cicero and Virgil, the latter of which Harold had just commenced.