“So I reckon I ain’t quite so much of a genooine Shylock Holmes as I let on to be,” he added. “Course, as the old lady said when she broke her false teeth on a hick’rynut but didn’t swallow ’em, things might be wuss, but then again they might be better. I ought to ’a’ had that Groche locked up for stealin’ the wrench, when I had him dead to rights; but I didn’t know enough. If I’d foreseen what was comin’---- Oh, wal, if I’d been able to do that, folks’d been dragging me off to be President of the United States, instead o’ lettin’ me stay here to help your father try to keep you in order.” Mr. Parker, weather bound in No. 3 camp by the blizzard, had had his first intimation of the club’s peril and escape when he reached Coreytown on his way out. He came home to find Sam comfortably settled. The father listened attentively to the son’s narrative, but made no comment. Sam was puzzled a little by this, and not a little disappointed. He would have given much to know precisely his father’s opinion of his conduct throughout the episode. But Mr. Parker reserving judgment, Sam went about his own affairs, and was very busy. There was school, with study and recitations; coasting, sleighing and snow-shoeing filled the afternoons; then there was a club question, which brought him into frequent conference with the other members. And at last this question was decided; and it was the evening of the ninth day; and he was hurrying through his supper because, decision having been reached, the club was to meet that night in full session. Sam had made his excuses, and was rising from the table, when his father detained him. “I wish you’d give me a few minutes, Sam,” he said. “It’s something which may interest you. Step into the library, and I’ll join you presently.” Sam, at once curious and impatient, had not long to wait. Mr. Parker seated himself at his desk, glanced at a memorandum, turned to the boy. “Well, Sam,” he said slowly, “about time we took account of stock and balanced the books, isn’t it?” “I--I suppose so, sir,” his son answered uncertainly. “Let’s see! Some weeks ago we reached an understanding. There had been an untoward incident, due to your--er--er--well, call it your precipitancy. At the time it seemed wise to put you on probation. Well, how have you behaved?” “Why--why”--Sam stammered--“why, I--I’ve----” Mr. Parker’s glance was searching, but his lips were smiling. “To the best of my information, you’ve behaved remarkably well!” said he emphatically. “Oh!” It was all Sam could say. “Yes,” his father went on. “I’ve been at some pains to inquire into your conduct. I’ve examined and cross-examined Lon and the boys who were with you at the camp and afterward. By the way, two of them were unusually excellent witnesses.” “Yes, sir?” said Sam questioningly. Mr. Parker’s smile broadened. “One was Willy Reynolds, who----” “What! The Shark?... That’s a nickname we have for him, you know.” “Ah! The Shark?”