‘Yes, we had a little――ah――conference the other day after she got home and she promised to be more careful of her statements. She’s going to get the upper hand of that powerful imagination of hers pretty soon. I wouldn’t be surprised if, after a while, she got so you could believe every word she tells you!’ ‘Why, Father!’ murmured the girl in shocked tones. ‘How can you speak so before strangers?’ ‘Oh, I guess they can stand it,’ her father chuckled. ‘Which way are you boys heading? Down the river, eh?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ answered Pud, ‘we’re going home. We’re going as far as Livermore to-night.’ ‘I’ll bet you’ve had a fine time, too. It’s a wonderful thing to get away into the quiet of the woods and streams for a few days now and then!’ ‘Yes, sir,’ agreed Pud, wondering if the word ‘quiet’ was just the right one! ‘Wish I could ask you-all to stay and have supper with us,’ went on Mr. Liscomb genially, ‘but I guess we’d be rather crowded, and I’m not too sure we’d have enough for all hands. Sort of depends on what my brother brings home when he comes.’ ‘We――I guess we’d better not,’ said Pud. ‘Thank you very much, sir.’ ‘Not at all. Glad to have you if you want to take a chance. I feel sort of indebted to you for the way you looked after this young lady, boys. Mighty fine of you to do it. My regards to your father when you get home, Pud. And good luck to you!’ Gladys Ermintrude waved as long as they were in sight. So did Tim. Pud had a somewhat thoughtful look when, presently, Tim came forward and seated himself. ‘I suppose,’ said Pud after a moment, ‘it’s sort of a habit with her.’ ‘What is? Who?’ ‘Gladys Evinrude: telling those fairy stories like she does. You know, Tim, I used to sort of――sort of――’ ‘I’ll say you did,’ chuckled Tim. ‘Well, I never told regular whoppers like she does,’ Pud defended. ‘I never said anything that wasn’t so, did I? Did you ever know me to tell a lie?’ ‘No-o, but――but, gosh, you can make folks think things that ain’t so, Pud!’ ‘Sure. But I don’t tell lies. She does, you might say. Only she doesn’t mean ’em to be lies, I suppose. She――she’s fanciful. That’s her trouble. I guess we oughtn’t to be too hard on her, Tim.’ ‘Well, who was hard on her, I’d like to know? I wasn’t!’ ‘I guess a fellow _can_ see too many movies,’ continued Pud thoughtfully. ‘That is, he can, if he has a――an imagination to start with. I guess I’ll cut them out, Tim.’ ‘All of them?’ asked Tim anxiously. Pud shifted uneasily on his feet. ‘Well, maybe the right sort of pictures don’t do any harm,’ he compromised. ‘Of course that Gladys Evinrude――’ ‘It isn’t Evinrude; it’s Ermintrude.’ ‘It ain’t either,’ chuckled Pud. ‘It’s Tibbie! Anyway, what I was going to say was――was――’ But Pud had lost the thread of his discourse, and before he could pick it up again, Tim spoke. ‘Say, she looked kind of――kind of pretty to-day, Pud.’