He stifled these pricking thoughts as fast as they arose, not permitting them seriously to disturb his holiday. He whistled, he sang, he lay on his back and looked up at the sky through the chinks in the tender foliage. Sometimes he closed his eyes and listened, and the mysterious woodland sounds, mingled with the purling of the river, yielded him boundless enjoyment. When, however, the shadows of the trees fell at a certain angle, Tommy closed his sketch-book with a sigh and went swiftly homeward. "I must get there at the usual time," he meditated, "else they'll ask me where I've been." As he came in sight of the "Black Horse," the public inn of bygone times, where armored knights had claimed food and shelter, but which was now the comfortable residence of John Gainsborough, Tommy began to whistle airily. Approaching nearer, he discovered that his father had come with pipe and chair to the front stoop, and was sitting with his face turned down the street, as though watching for somebody. Tommy began to whistle louder, and as he turned in at the gate, his countenance was beaming with innocence. He bounded up the steps with the intention of getting into the house as quickly as possible, but as his hand touched the latch a stentorian voice said,-- "Thomas!" The boy stopped short, his eyes round with surprise, his lips still puckered for the whistling that had been so abruptly quelled. "I called for you at school to-day." "_Called for me at school to-day_," echoed Tommy, reddening in dismay. "I did. I found that I must drive out to Squire Bagley's place, and I decided to take you along. It seems that you had already given Mr. Burroughs an excuse from me." Tommy's fingers began to pick at his jacket, and he racked his brains for a story that would fit the occasion. "Well, father, I thought--" "Silence, if you please! I am terribly shocked to find that my son would deliberately write and act a lie. Such conduct deserves the severest punishment. Will you take your whipping before tea or after?" "After," said Tommy promptly; and accepting this as a dismissal he vanished into the house. The evening meal was not a joyous one for the culprit, owing to his foretaste of what was coming later. His brothers and sisters evidently knew nothing of his escapade, and chattered among themselves as usual; but his mother's eyes rested upon him from time to time with sorrow in their depths. Once a sob came into Tommy's throat, but he fiercely choked it back, scorning to weep even under such harrowing circumstances. As the family rose from the table, Mr. Gainsborough, pointing to the stairway, said sternly,-- "To your own room, Thomas!" Very slowly the boy obeyed, and when the upper door had closed upon him, Mrs. Gainsborough laid a detaining hand upon her husband's arm. "Wait for a moment, John, and look at the child's work."