It was the first time that the boy had ever rebelled. He had stood much from Mr. Ellis, and taken it all as a matter-of-course, but, for once, his anger had got the better of him. It was a blunder, also, to throw out that insinuation about the ten thousand dollars. Clyde realized this perfectly. He wished now that he not done it, and would have recalled his hasty words had it been possible. But the deed had been done, and the consequences of it, whatever they might be, were sure to come. What was to be done now? Clyde asked himself this question as he stood there before the bolted door, flushed with excitement. He looked at his brother, who was almost as excited as he was, and had started to his feet, only to remain there mute and motionless. It was all a mystery to Ray, who now heard the reference to the ten thousand dollars for the first time. But there was little time for thought. Uncle Ellis quickly recovered his self control, and, a moment after the door had been bolted on him, was knocking vigorously for admittance. His demand was not immediately obeyed, but it aroused Clyde to action, if it did nothing else. The money was still lying on the table. What was to be done with it? "Here, you rascals, let me in! Do you hear?" thundered the angry man. There was a vicious thump upon the door, which threatened serious results if repeated many times. "Open this door, or I will break it down!" Clyde knew that his uncle could do this, if he made up his mind to it, and the knowledge did not tend to increase his feeling of security. But that money! He looked around the room hastily for a hiding place. The house was heated in the winter by a furnace, and there was a register in the boys' room. This would offer a safe depository. Quickly sweeping the money into his handkerchief, he tied the four corners of it with a piece of twine that he carried in his pocket, and, lifting the iron register from its bed, hung the little bundle in the hole. It was the work of but an instant to make the twine fast so that money and all would not roll down the tin pipe. There was little chance that the hiding-place would be discovered. "I say! Are you going to let me in, or shall I break down the door?" demanded the man on the outside again. Clyde did not know what to say, and so he said nothing. This perhaps proved to be the wisest plan, for, after another vigorous thump at the door, Uncle Ellis suddenly changed his policy. He no longer demanded admittance; he asked it. "See here, you boys," he said, and his voice sunk from its high and angry tones to a softer and lower key. "See here, you boys; I don't want to hurt you. This is a mistake. I can come in there in about one minute if I want to; and if I do have to break this door down, some one will have to suffer for it. But if you will open it peacefully I will promise not to touch you. I didn't intend to do that, anyway."