"So, you see, that is why I want you to urge Father to stay on here," begged Theo. "Tell him the Maine air will do me good; tell him I'll get a fine rest keeping still; tell him--oh, tell him _anything_; only don't let him pack up and go home, and have his whole vacation spoiled. If you'll just get him to stay, Mr. Croyden, I will promise not to bother, and he can go off every day and fish just as if I weren't here." "You are a trump, Theo." "It--it is only that I think it's square, sir," faltered Theo. There was not time for further discussion, for at this juncture the door opened and Dr. Swift, followed by Manuel, entered. Theo knew the moment for his boasted heroism had come. He shut his lips tightly, and although the interval of anguish which followed forced the tears from his eyes he made no outcry. But never in his life had he experienced such pain. He did not know there was such pain in all the world. When it was over and, faint from suffering, he lay languidly back among the pillows, Dr. Swift's stern face relaxed, and it was then Theo realized for the first time that his father, too, had been bracing himself to meet the ordeal and had also been suffering. "My poor boy!" was all the Doctor said. "You have borne it like a man! I am proud of you, Theo." The words were few, but the praise was at that moment very precious. His father sat with him the remainder of the day, as well as a good part of the night, and during the wakeful hours when the boy tossed to and fro he would have ventured to speak about staying in camp had not Dr. Swift bidden him to be quiet every time he attempted to talk. The next morning, however, after the invalid had been bathed and had his breakfast the Doctor said of his own accord: "So you think you would be happier to remain here in the woods, Theo, instead of going home." The lad glanced up in surprise. "Did Mr. Croyden tell you that?" Dr. Swift nodded. "He said you'd like to stay," he returned quickly. "I should, very much." "Suppose we call it settled then, and say no more about it. I am sure I have no wish to jolt you over those miles of rough corduroy road if it can be avoided. You seem better this morning. Your fever has gone down, and I see no reason why you should not get on all right from now on." Theo smiled; then he whispered timidly: "I just want to tell you I'm sorry I disobeyed you, Father." His father put out his hand gently and covered the boy's two with his own. "You have the worst of it, son. Experience is a great teacher, they say. Let it help you not to do such a foolish thing again." Theo met his father's eyes gratefully. He still felt weak and shaken and he was thankful not to have his fault rubbed in.