In silence, Fred watched the girl pass down the steps of the school entrance and along the shady walk. "She's a brick!" he declared emphatically, adding, "if she only didn't have a brother. But that's not her fault--and I shouldn't wonder if there wasn't any love lost between them." In this surmise, Fred was nearer the truth than he realized. Of the three Montgomery children, Bart and Mary were as alike as two peas, arrogant and snobbish. In striking contrast, Alice was quick of sympathy and considerate of her fellows. And in consequence of this wide difference in their natures, Bart and Mary made their sister's life miserable with their bullying. With all her heart, Mary entered into her brother's hatred of his rival, while Alice never lost the opportunity of speaking a good word for Fred--a fact that did not tend to lessen the breach between them. But this hostility to her Alice took such pains to hide that even her mother and father were in ignorance of it, attributing her frequent headaches, her aloofness and her melancholy to ill-health. "A girl like that can't be happy with a brother and sister like Bart and Mary," mused Fred, as he watched her disappear down the walk. "I'll bet she's lonesome. Now I think of it, I never see her round with any of the fellows and girls. I'll speak to Marg about her the first time I get a chance. If I can do anything for her in return for what she's done for me, I'll be only too glad." And, with this resolve, the boy entered the classroom. With a hurried glance at Margie, given from long custom, he dropped into his seat in the front row. But all through the morning Alice's face, with its wistful expression, danced before his eyes as he tried to study. At recess, he sought out Margie and poured out to her his thoughts about Alice, concluding with the request that she be more friendly with her and make her one of their intimates. But to his surprise, Margie did not enthuse over the project, instead receiving the suggestion with evident displeasure, and for the first time in their friendship they parted in anger at one another. During the afternoon and for the next two days, Fred strove to propitiate the girl, but she kept aloof from him so persistently that he finally gave up the attempt. To the sorely-tried boy, this action on Margie's part seemed the last straw to his burden, and he kept to himself entirely, repulsing the awkward attempts at sympathy essayed by Buttons, Soda and Grace, and only becoming his usual cheery self when in the presence of his mother. When this self-imposed isolation had continued for a month, including absence from two meetings of the supper club, as an excuse for which he pleaded study, Buttons called Sandow and Soda into consultation. "I don't know what it is, but something is eating the heart out of poor old Cotton-Top," he declared when the three were securely ensconced in his room.