"No, it isn't all right," contradicted Harry. "It was a low-down thing to do and I was sorry right away. Only you didn't look and so--so I--I didn't call you. I--I wish you had looked. It was all Horace's fault. He said--said--" "Yes, I guess I know what he said," interrupted Roy. "But supposing what he said is so?" "I wouldn't care--much," was the answer. "But I know it isn't so! Is it?" Roy dropped his eyes and hesitated. Then, "No," he muttered. "It isn't so, Harry." "I knew it!" she cried triumphantly. "I told him I knew it afterwards! And he said girls weren't proper persons to judge of such things, and I don't see what that's got to do with my knowing--what I know, do you?" Roy had to acknowledge that he didn't. "And you're not cross with me, are you?" she demanded anxiously. "Not a bit," he said. "That's nice. I don't like folks I like to not like--Oh, dear me! I'm all balled up! Only I mustn't say 'balled up.' I meant that I was--confused. Anyway, I'm going to tell all the boys that it isn't so, that you didn't squeal--I mean _tell_--on Horace and the others! And I think it was a nasty trick to play on you! Why, you might have caught your death of cold!" "Or a sore throat, like Methuselah," said Roy, smiling. "Or you might have been drowned. Once there was a boy drowned here, a long, long time ago, when I was just a kid. It was very sad. But you weren't drowned, were you? And so there's no use in supposing, is there? But I'm going to tell the boys that--" "I'd rather you didn't, please, Harry," broke in Roy. Harry, who was becoming quite enthusiastic and excited, opened her eyes very wide. "Not tell?" she cried. "Why not?" "Well," answered Roy hesitatingly, "I--I'd rather you didn't." "No reason!" said Harry scornfully. "If they think I'd do such a thing," muttered Roy, "they can just keep on thinking so. I guess I can stand it." Harry looked puzzled for a moment; she was trying to get at his point of view; then her face lighted. "Splendid!" she cried. "You're going to be a martyr and be misunderstood like--like somebody in a book I was reading! And some day, long after you're gone--" Harry looked vaguely about as though searching for the place Roy was to go to--"folks will discover that you're innocent and they'll be very, very sorry and erect a white marble shaft to your cherished memory!" She ended much out of breath, but still enthusiastic, to find Roy laughing at her. "I guess I'm not hankering for any martyr business, Harry. It isn't that exactly; I don't know just what it is. But if you won't say anything about it I'll be awfully much obliged." "Well, then, I won't," promised Harry regretfully. "Only I do wish you were going to be a martyr!" "I shall be if I don't hurry," answered Roy. "I have math with Mr. Buckman in about half a minute."