"Roger throwed him!" cried Mr. Kimball, capering about, almost as much pleased over his nephew's victory as Roger himself was. "So ye throwed him fair, eh? Wa'al, I told ye we'd make a Cardiff boy outen ye, ef ye stayed long 'nuff. By Gum! Throwed him good 'n' proper! Now mebby he'll think some un 'sides him kin rassal." "Well, well, but that's a big improvement in Roger," said Mr. Anderson, coming up as the boys resumed their feet. "He's twice as strong as when I sent him up here. The air and sunshine of the country have made him what he ought to be--a healthy, sturdy boy." The lads clenched again, rolling over and over in the long grass. The last vestige of daylight disappeared, the chirping of the crickets became louder, the tree-toads croaked with stronger voices, and it was night in the valley of Cardiff. THE END