"We-e-ell,--" began Johnnie; "we-e-ell--" and stopped. Countless times he had punished Big Tom in his own way; and had looked ahead to the hour when, grown-up, and the longshoreman's physical equal, he could measure out to the latter punishment of a substantial kind. Yet now that Mr. Perkins had done just this, where was the overwhelming satisfaction? He was glad, of course, that Mr. Perkins had come out victor, and had not been beaten as One-Eye had been beaten; but so far as he himself was concerned, the truth was that Big Tom's mortification was dust in his mouth, and ashes, though, somehow, he shrank from admitting it. "Well, Father Pat," he added faintly, "I--I guess I--I'm not--er--what y'd call _glad_." "Ah, me grand lad!" exclaimed the priest. "Ye feel like I want ye t' feel! Because that's how a fine, decent lad _ought_ t' feel! Not glad! Not gloryin' over a bully that's had his desert! Not holdin' on t' hate once the fight is done! Lad dear, ye don't ever disappoint Father Pat! And, oh, he thanks God for it!" Johnnie felt boyishly shy and awkward then, looking at the floor and wriggling his toes, and taking back into his cheeks quite a supply of color in the form of blushes. One-Eye also broke forth with commendations. "That's the ticket!" he cried. "No crowin'! Aw, Johnnie, y're a blamed white kid!" Whereupon, feeling around close to the floor till he located one of Johnnie's ankles, he made his way up to those narrow--and sore--shoulders, and gave them such a hearty slap of approbation that tears started in a certain pair of yellow-gray eyes. "I'm glad, too, that you feel as you do about it," said Mr. Perkins, earnestly. "And, Johnnie, have you done your good turn yet to-day?" "No, sir," answered Johnnie, apologetically. "But y' see, I been tied t' the table, and also I jus' only come to, and----" "I understand," broke in the scoutmaster quickly. "But perhaps when Mr. Barber comes in--his face, you know. Could you wash it up a bit?" "Ye-e-e-es, sir,"--reluctantly; for young as he was, Johnnie realized that whatever his own feelings toward the longshoreman might be, they were no gauge of the feelings of the longshoreman toward him. However, dutifully he went to find the wash basin, and fill it; and he accepted from Mr. Perkins a most immaculate wash cloth, this one of those wonderful handkerchiefs which had colored borders. He was prepared for his good turn not a moment too soon. For the stairs outside were creaking under slow and heavy steps. "The conq'rin' hero!" announced One-Eye, with a blind, but sweepin' bow in the general direction of the on-comer. "Sh!" cautioned Mr. Perkins. One-Eye did a comical collapse upon the mattress, his reinhand, as he chose to term his left, well stuffed into his mustached mouth. The others were silent, too--as the door opened and Big Tom came crawling in.