He was probably thinking of employment in the circus which was doing a three day stand in Clover Valley. Perhaps he had also some idea of identifying himself professionally with that camp of railroad workers whose duties sometimes took them far afield. “Bimbo, you can have the place if you want it,” he said flippantly. “What’s the use of having it if I can’t stay out of it nights. Anyway, you’re not my father, are you?” Still Mr. Walton kept his composure. “I think some boy has put that idea into your head,” said he. “You never said that before. I don’t think that comes from your heart, Herve.” “Well, I’m not going to start going to school anyway. Lots of fellers my age do other things. Jiminies, I can’t stand that old four-eye Keller; he razzed me all last term. You say the Scouts and fresh air are good. Is it good to keep a feller in school till five o’clock. Bimbo, do you call that fresh air? _Good night!_” Still Mr. Walton, unruffled, patient, reasonable, seemed to be trying to understand this boy and to be fair with him. He watched him with a keen scrutiny in his kindly, tired eyes. His forbearance seemed inexhaustible. “Hervey,” said he finally, “why did you try to sell your bicycle?” Hervey was quite taken by surprise. “M--my--why did I try to--when did I try to sell it?” he stammered. “You tried to sell it to Mr. Berly,” said Mr. Walton. “I met him to-day and he told me so.” “He--_he said that_?” Hervey was right on the edge of a lie, but he sidestepped it. “Gee, what good is it?” he said. “You said only last week you were going to take a long ride on it. Don’t you remember--at the supper table--when Mrs. Tennet was here?” “As long as I can’t go anywhere and stay out, what’s the good of it? Riding around the green isn’t any fun.” Mr. Walton disregarded this insincerity. “And that’s why you tried to sell it? The bicycle that your mother promised you when you reached fifteen, and which I gave you in memory of her--to carry out her wish?” Hervey was silent. For a moment he seemed to be reached. “You didn’t think you could get enough for it to take you out west, did you? When you’re old enough if you want to go out west, I’ll give you the money to go. I’m afraid you’ll never find what you want out there, but if you want to go, I will be willing--when you get through school. I can’t make you stay in the Scouts----” “Good night on that outfit,” Hervey interrupted. “But of course, you must finish school--and high school.” “_Goooood_ night!”