“Humph!” ejaculated the doctor. “Now, look here, Dexter, is every word of that true!”
“Yes, sir, every bit,” cried the boy eagerly. “You will see if it ain’t.”
The doctor’s face wrinkled a little more, as to conceal a smile he turned to his daughter—
“Now,” he said, “do you think this is true?”
“I feel sure it is,” said Helen. “I am convinced that Dexter would not tell either of us a falsehood.”
“There!” cried the boy, smiling triumphantly, as he crept to Helen’s side and laid his hand in hers. “Hear that? Of course I wouldn’t. I wanted to be all right, but—I say, does my head bleed there?”
He took off his cap, and held down his head, while Helen looked at the spot he pointed out, and shuddered slightly.
“That’s where he stuck his nails into my head, just like a cat. It did hurt ever so, but I soon forgot it.”
“Let’s go home,” said the doctor gravely. “It is unfortunate, but of course Dexter could not submit to be trampled upon by any boy.”
“I say, you do believe me, don’t you!” said Dexter quickly.