"You knew how I prize those cushions. That one with the roses took me all last winter to do," said Roger's mother sternly. "I--I--yes, I kind of knew, but I forgot. I always forget when I'm inventing. Don't I, Ern?" Ern nodded and put his arm over Roger's shoulder. "I must try to help you to remember, little son." Mrs. Moore sighed. "For three days you cannot play with Ernie and Elschen." Instantly a howl rose from the two little Wolfs. "We can't play without Roger! It was our fault too!" "Indeed, that's too hard on all of them, Mrs. Moore. We'll have bedlam for three days," protested Mrs. Wolf. "But he's always losing his temper and hurting your children," exclaimed Mrs. Moore. "But he keeps them interested, anyhow," replied the little German mother. "They never ask to go away when Roger is with them. There's something so lovable about him in spite of his temper." "He hit me in my poor little belly--" began Elschen. "Elschen!" shrieked her mother. "Stomach," Elschen substituted hastily. "My poor little stomach. But I don't care, I love him anyhow." "But how about my sofa pillows?" asked Mrs. Moore. "We'll give you the money out of our banks," said Ernie. Elsa jumped up and down. "So we will! And you too, Roger!" "Sure I will. And I'll iron the roses out for you." The two mothers looked at each other with a glimmer of a smile in light and dark blue eyes. "You can each put a quarter in the Sunday School contribution box next Sunday and we'll call it square. Do you agree, Mrs. Wolf?" Then as her little neighbor nodded, Roger's mother went on. "Go change your wet suit, Roger, and take Charley home. Lend me some of Elschen's little things for her, Mrs. Wolf. The child is soaked." "Mamma! That's a _mile_ out to Prebles'," roared Roger. His mother looked at him, completely out of patience. "Well, _Roger_! after this afternoon's various performances!" "Oh, I'll go!" cried Roger hastily. "I was just talking, that was all!" and he fled to the house. Roger and Charley, hand in hand, trailed up the street in the haphazard manner of childhood. The Prebles lived on a farm half a mile beyond the limits of the town of Eagle's Wing. The board walk ended not far beyond the Moores' house and the children automatically chose the center of the road where the dust was deepest. By scuffling their bare feet continuously they managed to travel most of the distance to the farm in a cloud of dust which Roger explained was a deep sea fog. Dick Preble met them at the door of the farm house. Dick was a stocky boy of ten with a freckled face surmounted by a thatch of sandy hair. "Charley! Where have you been? We thought you were asleep upstairs. Mamma was just getting scared. And whose clothes have you got on?" Charley rushed headlong past her brother, shrieking for her mother, while Roger struggled with his explanation of certain of the afternoon's complications.