Elder brothers are apt to be a little hard on younger ones, so it is not surprising that Frank, who was an eminently proper boy, was much cut up when Jack publicly confessed to dealings with Jerry, leaving it to be supposed that the worst half of the story remained untold.  He felt it his duty, therefore, to collar poor Jack when he came out, and talk to him all the way home, like a judge bent on getting at the truth by main force.  A kind word would have been very comforting, but the scolding was too much for Jack’s temper, so he turned dogged and would not say a word, though Frank threatened not to speak to him for a week.

At tea-time both boys were very silent, one looking grim, the other excited.  Frank stared sternly at his brother across the table, and no amount of marmalade sweetened or softened that reproachful look.  Jack defiantly crunched his toast, with occasional slashes at the butter, as if he must vent the pent-up emotions which half distracted him.  Of course, their mother saw that something was amiss, but did not allude to it, hoping that the cloud would blow over as so many did if left alone.  But this one did not, and when both refused cake, this sure sign of unusual perturbation made her anxious to know the cause.  As soon as tea was over, Jack retired with gloomy dignity to his own room, and Frank, casting away the paper he had been pretending to read, burst out with the whole story.  Mrs. Minot was as much surprised as he, but not angry, because, like most mothers, she was sure that her sons could not do anything very bad.

“I will speak to him; my boy won’t refuse to give me some explanation,” she said, when Frank had freed his mind with as much warmth as if Jack had broken all the ten commandments.

“He will.  You often call me obstinate, but he is as pig-headed as a mule; Joe only knows what he saw, old tell-tale! and Jerry has left town, or I’d have it out of him.  Make Jack own up, whether he can or not.  Little donkey!” stormed Frank, who hated rowdies and could not forgive his brother for being seen with one.

“My dear, all boys do foolish things sometimes, even the wisest and best behaved, so don’t be hard on the poor child.  He has got into trouble, I’ve no doubt, but it cannot be very bad, and he earned the money to pay for his prank, whatever it was.”

Mrs. Minot left the room as she spoke, and Frank cooled down as if her words had been a shower-bath, for he remembered his own costly escapade, and how kindly both his mother and Jack had stood by him on that trying occasion.  So, feeling rather remorseful, he went off to talk it over with Gus, leaving Jill in a fever of curiosity, for Merry and Molly had dropped in on their way home to break the blow to her, and Frank declined to discuss it with her, after mildly stating that Jack was “a ninny,” in his opinion.

“Well, I know one thing,” said Jill confidentially to Snow-ball, when they were left alone together, “if every one else is scolding him I won’t say a word.  It’s so mean to crow over people when they are down, and I’m sure he hasn’t done anything to be ashamed of, though he won’t tell.”