She broke off abruptly, and Frank, flashing a single startled glance at her, saw that her eyes were full of tears. Instantly he dropped his own and stood awkwardly twisting his cap and wishing he hadn't come. "I know boys hate being thanked," Mrs. Trexler went on presently in a voice which wasn't quite steady, "so I won't pester you with--with a mother's gratitude. I just want you to let me--" She bent over suddenly and kissed him on the forehead. The boy flushed crimson and mumbled something about its being only what any fellow would have done. Would Paul go on this way, too, he wondered apprehensively as he followed her down the hall. He supposed it was natural for a woman to get all worked up, but if a fellow-- "Some one to see you, Paul," said Mrs. Trexler, cheerfully, pausing beside an open doorway. She motioned for Frank to enter and then, to his relief, departed, leaving the two boys alone. Paul had been reading beside a window, but as Sanson appeared he stood up slowly. Though looking much better than he had the afternoon before, his face was still a little pale, and the visitor perceived, with a sudden sense of returning composure, that he, too, was overcome with embarrassment. Somehow the discovery made things a lot easier. "I--I'm awfully glad you came in," Trexler stammered. He put out his hand awkwardly, but there was a vigor in his lingering grip that told something of the feelings words refused to express. "You--weren't in school, so I thought maybe you were--sick, or something," Sanson returned. "Gee! What a dandy room!" Now that the worst was over he began to be rather glad he had come, and stared about him with eager interest. Certainly it was a room to excite any boy's enthusiasm. Long and rather narrow, there were two windows on one side through which the winter sun poured cheerfully. Against the opposite wall, and filling almost the entire space, was a large glass-fronted case, containing the most amazingly realistic reproduction of woodland life the boy had ever seen. Fastened in one corner was the gnarled crotch of a tree with a great, roughly built nest of twigs and leaves from which two baby hawks, their down just giving place to feathers, thrust up inquiring heads. At the other end of the case stood a section of a silvery white oak, with one long branch extending along the back. An owl perched here, teased by a blackbird with outstretched wings and open beak, and there were several birds'-nests among the branches. The lower part of the case was filled with small bushes, clumps of grass, and reeds, among which Frank noted quantities of other nests, some with eggs and some without, more mounted birds of various sorts, and several animals, such as a mink, two squirrels, and a skunk, all in the most lifelike attitudes. Turning from an eager inspection of the case, he stared at Trexler in amazement. "It's the greatest thing I ever saw!" he exclaimed. "Do you mean to say you did it all yourself?"