Poor Peter! He longed to explain, but a strange reticence held him back. He had never mentioned at home either Strong's affairs or his friends and it now seemed well-nigh impossible to make any one--even his own father--understand how much he cared for Nat, and what this disaster had meant to them both; besides, it was too much like blowing his own trumpet to sit up and tell his father how he had played fairy godmother to the Jacksons. It would sound as if he wanted praise, and Peter, who was naturally a modest lad, shrank from anything of the sort. Accordingly he said never a word. Mr. Coddington wandered to the window and drummed nervously on the pane. "You have no more explanations to make to me, Peter?" he asked at last, turning and facing his son. "I--I'm afraid not, sir. You see it is hard to explain things. No one would understand," faltered the boy. Chagrined as he was, Mr. Coddington strove to be patient. "Come now, Peter," he urged, "no matter what you've done let's out with it. Maybe I've made a mistake in not allowing you to talk more freely here at home about your affairs at the tannery. It certainly seems to have resulted in making you less frank with me than you used to be. Let us put all that behind us now. Just what sort of trouble have you got into down there?" Words trembled on Peter's lips. Would it be loyal to tell his father--to tell any one, all the Jacksons' affairs? Nat had told them in confidence and had not expected they would be passed on to anybody else. No, he must keep that trust sacred. He must tell no one. "I can't tell you, Father," he said. "I'll come out all right, though. Don't worry about me. I've just got to keep on working at the tannery as hard as I can." "Are you trying to pay up something?" inquired his father, an inspiration seizing him. "Yes, sir." Mr. Coddington realized that further attempts to get at the truth were useless, and not a little perturbed he left the room. All the next day Peter was haunted by reproaches. It took no very keen vision to detect that his father was worried, and this worry the boy felt he must relieve. His course lay clearly outlined before him; he would go to the hospital and ask Nat's permission to tell the entire story. Much as Peter disliked to speak of what he had done to help the Jacksons it was far preferable to having his father suffer the present anxiety.