“Listen, Lem,” Henrietta continued. “What I want to tell you is that you must not run away, if you were thinking of running away. That was why I had you brought here, so I could tell you that. You understand, don't you? You must not run away; not to-night, anyway.” There was still no sign from the boy on the bed. “I 'll tell you why,” Henrietta went on. “If you do, every one will always think you are a thief, and all your life you will have trouble and misery and unhappiness. All your whole life, even if you live to be a hundred. So I want you to promise not to run away to-night. Will you promise that?” Lem did not answer. “I wish you would,” pleaded Henrietta. “I'm tired, Lem, and my heart is tired to-night. I want to sleep and see if sleep will bring me any answer to the troubles I can't see my way out of to-night. There may be some way, but I do not see it now, and if you will not promise not to run away I 'll have to go to Miss Susan now and tell her that Freeman stole her money. I want to save you, Lem, but I want to save myself and Freeman, too, if I can, and if I tell Miss Susan the truth it means ruin for me. I will have to go away forever. Will you promise now not to run away?” She looked at him, but not a muscle of his face quivered. She arose, and drew her robe more closely around her neck, and went to the door. There she gave a last look toward the bed. Lem was sitting straight. “Aw, gee!” he said. “Don't go an' tell her nothin' like that. Don't you go an' tell her Freeman took her money. Because he didn't take it. I took it.” “Lem!” Henrietta cried, with a deep breath, while her eyes showed her distress. “Not truly? You don't mean that, Lem?” “Yes, I did!” he insisted. “I took it. I took it, but I did n't steal it. I took it to get even with her, callin' me a thief an' everything.” Henrietta returned to sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh, Lem!” she said. “How could you!” “Well, she was mean to me, so I was mean to her,” he said. “I got a right to get even with her, have n't I? I don't have to let her be mean to me an' not be mean to her, do I?” “But to steal!” cried Henrietta. “I didn't either steal!” declared Lem stubbornly. “I just took. I just took her old money an' put it where she would n't get it again, so she'd wish she had n't ever wanted to be mean to me.” “Where did you put it?” asked Henrietta. “I won't tell you!” “You will tell me! You 'll tell me this instant!” Henrietta had not been a school teacher fot years for nothing. Now, by an instantaneous change, she was all a school teacher--a school teacher able to command rebellious boys for their own good. “I won't either tell you!” declared Lem. “Very well!” said Henrietta, and she arose and began to draw on her stockings. “What you goin' to do?” Lem asked. “No matter,” she said. “You are going to tell me what you did with that money.”