"What am I to do? I've had none." "You may thank your precious brat for that, madam. Give oysters to a horse! Oh, my, I'll never get over it!" cried Mr. Smithers. Wrapping his injured hand in a handkerchief, he rushed from the house, leaving his wife alone with Harold Stamford and Alice Regina. "What is the matter with pa, ma, dear?" asked Alice. "Oh, don't bother me," said Mrs. Smithers, swaying herself to and fro in the rocking-chair. "Wasn't he mad?" remarked Harold. "I never saw him so before. It was all that Tommy's doing, I'll bet." "Go up to bed, both of you," said Mrs. Smithers. "I won't for one," exclaimed Alice. "Will you, Harold?" "Not much," replied the boy. "Your father will punish you when he comes back." "No he won't--he likes us too much, and we don't care for you, ma, when pa isn't here," said Alice. Mrs. Smithers sighed again, but made no further effort to get the children to bed. She knew they were their father's spoiled pets, and that it was useless, with her weak mind and undecided character, to attempt to control them in his absence. So, while she sat silently crying to herself, Harold Stamford and Alice Regina got out the board and amused themselves with a game of checkers. It was past midnight when Smithers returned, with rather an unsteady gait, and a glaziness about his eyes, which, taken in connection with the huskiness of his voice, led his wife to suppose that he had been drinking. "This is a nice time to come home," she said, with more than her usual boldness. "Very nicesh timesh," he answered, hiccoughing. "Where have you been?" "Looking for boysh they call Shoft Tommy--hic--that'sh where I've been." "Did you find him?" "No." "Well, he's not come in," said Mrs. Smithers, "and it's my opinion that your harshness has driven him to some rash act." "Run away, do you think?" exclaimed Smithers. "Oh, dear, no--hic--Tommy's too good a judge of when he'sh well off. Light my--hic--candlesh, and I'll go to bed." Smithers was accommodated with a light, and in some mysterious manner retired without breaking his neck or setting the house on fire. Harold and Alice followed their father's example, but Mrs. Smithers remained up till the small hours, waiting for Tommy to come back. The fire in the stove went out, and the daylight peeped through the shades. Still the anxious mother watched. When Tommy managed to escape from his father's anger, he ran to the back of Mr. Barker's house, where he knew he was sure of protection and shelter. In the kitchen he found Charles Barker, a boy about his own age. "Hello, Tommy," exclaimed Charley; "weren't those oysters bully?" "I'm afraid to go home, through them," answered Tommy. "It seems as if I made another mistake. They weren't for the horse's supper at all. I wish I was a little smarter. Father will knock the life out of me when he catches me."