Mr. Curtis listened quietly, and when the boy had finished he smiled reassuringly and shook his head. "You needn't worry about that, Frank," he said. "The doctor says he'll come around all right. He's pretty well done up from the exposure and shock, and you know he's never been so very strong. I don't think your hitting him has had much to do with it, but even if it had, no one could blame you. It was a question of that, or of both of you going down, and in such an emergency almost any methods are right. How are you feeling yourself?" "Oh, I'm all right now, sir. There's nothing at all the matter with me. I don't see why I can't get up." "Better not just yet. There's nothing special you can do. I have a car over by the bridge, and when Paul is fit to be moved, we'll all go back together." "But I've got my wheel here," protested Frank. "Let somebody else ride it in," returned Mr. Curtis. "After such a dousing there's no use taking chances." He paused a moment, his eyes fixed quizzically on the boy's face. "You can't swim, can you, Frank?" he went on presently. "Oh, yes, sir!" the boy said hastily. A faint smile curved the man's lips. "How much?" he asked quietly. "About six strokes?" Sanson flushed, and a guilty grin overspread his face. "Make it eight, sir," he chuckled. "A fellow can't seem to fool you at all." "And yet you went in after--" "But I didn't!" interrupted Frank, earnestly. "I was reaching out with my hockey-stick, and the ice broke and dropped me in. I didn't mean to at all." "Broke without any warning, I suppose," murmured Mr. Curtis. "You couldn't possibly have escaped--even by letting go your stick." The boy's flush deepened, and he wriggled uncomfortably. "I--I--" he stammered, and then was silent. The scoutmaster gave a low, contented laugh, and something in his glance sent an odd thrill through Sanson. He didn't analyze it. He only knew that all at once he had ceased to feel embarrassed and was happy and comfortable, and back of it all not a little proud of the thing which had won his scoutmaster's commendation. "I won't bother you any more," smiled Mr. Curtis, as he turned away. "I had an idea that was about how it happened, though." A pleasant glow crept over the boy, continuing even after he had got into his clothes and was making his way along the shore toward the bridge. It was still present to a certain extent next day, and, combined with a touch of remorse that lingered in the back of his mind, brought him in the afternoon to the Trexler house to inquire for Paul, who had not appeared at school. He did not expect to see the boy, and when Mrs. Trexler asked him to come in, he was seized with a mild sort of panic. "I was afraid of a cold, so I kept him home to-day. I know he'll want to see you," she said as Frank stepped into the hall and closed the door reluctantly behind him. "I want to--"