They were late to breakfast; and this enabled them to escape the keen eyes of Ned’s father, who, having been a boy, would know!
However, Mrs. Miller—thoughtful mother—was waiting for them.
“Goodness, boys! What have you been up to?” she cried, as they neared the table.
It might have been the scratches; it might have been the clothes; probably it was both.
“Oh, we fell down,” answered Ned, sheepishly.
His mother scanned him sharply, but made no farther remark; nevertheless, Ned suspected that the end was not yet.
Squire Belton, or his yellow dog, must have talked around town, so that certain fathers heard; and certain mothers, having patched and darned some sadly-abused garments, must have exchanged notes, as mothers will: at any rate, in a day or two the Miller family—save Ned—had watermelon for dessert, but Ned’s dessert was a huge piece of raw squash!
And Hal reported exactly the same treatment.