Maggie had reached the foot of the flight. “So you come traipsin’ home after everything’s cleaned up and put away, and expect me to muss up my kitchen for you? I like that! Well, you can just guess again, Sam Parker!” “But I don’t want anything, Maggie!” Sam said pacifically. “Honest, I don’t. I’m not hungry.” “That’s lucky--seein’s there ain’t anything,” said Maggie drily. However, she was moving toward the kitchen. “Come along with you, though!” she flung over her shoulder. Sam followed her meekly. “You don’t need to bother,” he insisted. Maggie paid not the slightest heed to his protests. “Don’t see how folks can expect to keep a house decent, with all the overgrown boys in town runnin’ in for snacks between meals,” she grumbled. “Well, now you’re here, you might as well sit down.” She pointed to a table, bare but spotlessly clean. “S’pose I’ll have to give you some dry bread or a cracker, maybe. And the water from the faucet’s cold enough to drink at this time of year.” Sam sat down. “Oh, anything’ll do,” he said humbly. “Umph!” said Maggie, and opened the door of the oven. “Well, I do declare! How’d that happen?” And from the oven she took a plate, on which was a generous slice of steak, also a big potato. “Goodness gracious! but I must be gettin’ flighty! I’d ’a’ said for sure I put those things in the ice chest. Don’t it beat all how things happen! Course, the meat’s cooked hard as a rock, but you might as well have it as Hannibal.” She set the plate on the table with a bang. “Well, now the stuff’s before you, what are you goin’ to do with it?” Sam showed her. In spite of the morning’s adventures he had an excellent appetite. Maggie, observing, brought a glass of milk and a large piece of pie from the pantry. Then, standing before him, she studied the youth closely. “Sam, what you been doin’? What mischief you been up to?” “Noth--nothing,” mumbled Sam. Maggie shook her head. “Don’t you try to tell me, Sam Parker! I ain’t known you years and years for nothing. Where you been?” Sam took thought. Maggie was his sworn ally and help in time of trouble, but he feared she couldn’t be brought to look kindly upon the incidents of his morning. “Oh! I--I went for a--for a walk--out in the woods,” he stammered. “Then what?” “Then I came home,” said Sam. “So I see!” quoth Maggie drily. “But go on! As you were sayin’----?” Sam wriggled. “This--this is bully pie, Maggie,” said he, in an effort to change the topic. Her severity of expression deepened. “Mebbe it is, Sam. But you can’t have another piece ’less you ’fess up.” “But I--I can’t confess.” “Bosh!” said Maggie tartly. Sam, in his turn, regarded her gravely. He had no intention of confiding in his old friend, but plainly it was a point of interest to learn if he struck people as one who was burdened with a terrible secret. “Well, I got awfully tired, for one thing,” said he. “And it was chilly and--er--er--and lonesome. And so I show it, do I?”