“What did the folks have to say about it?”
Bert replied that the folks had had a good deal to say about it, and suggested that if his brother was able to walk to the fence where the pony was hitched they had better start for home at once. The sooner Don got there, the sooner would the anxiety of his mother and sisters be relieved.
“Well, I must face the music some time,” said Don, resignedly, “and I suppose I might as well do it now as an hour later. But I can’t go home in this shape. Help me down to the lake so that I can wash the black off my hands and face.”
It was a matter of no little difficulty for Don to walk so far; but, by Bert’s assistance, he reached the shore of the lake at last, and having taken a long and hearty drink of the water, and washed off the blacking, he felt better. It was while he was thus engaged that Clarence visited the cellar.
After Don had rested a few minutes and refreshed himself with another drink of water, Bert brought up his pony, and his brother managed to climb into the saddle. Bert walked by the pony’s side, and of course had a multitude of questions to ask about things which Don had not thought to mention in his story. Now, that his surprise and indignation had somewhat abated, he could laugh heartily at his brother’s description of his adventures. They met no one while they were on the way home, and Don was glad to find that there was nobody about the barn. He hurried into old Jordan’s room, and when he had put on his own clothes, Bert helped him into the house. His mother and sisters met him at the door, and greeted him as though they had not seen him for a year or more. An explanation was at once demanded, but as Marshall was present, Don gave it to his mother in her own room. About the time he finished his father came in, and then the story had to be told over again. Of course the general and his wife were greatly amazed, and they were troubled and perplexed, too. They were troubled because they had expected better things than this of Clarence, and perplexed because they did not know just what ought to be done now. It was plain that Clarence was not a fit associate for any decent boy, and the sooner he was at home, where he belonged, the better it would be for him and Don, too.
“What did they say about it?” asked Bert, as soon as he had a chance to speak to his brother privately.
“They didn’t say much,” was the reply. “Clarence must go home, and that I think will end the matter.”
“Perhaps he is on his way home already,” said Bert. “I know I should start at once if I were in his place. I couldn’t face anybody after an act like that.”
“That is because you have never been guilty of a mean act in your life,” said Don. “One gets hardened to such things after a while. I know it by my experience at school. Probably Clarence has been in more scrapes than you and I ever dreamed of.”
That was not only very probable, but very true; but still he was not sufficiently hardened to face the consequences of this, which was one of the worst scrapes he had ever been in.