The two boys took their meals with the officers' mess, and slept at the surgeon's quarters that night.
Leon's recovery was wonderfully rapid, as the doctor said it would be, but he was not yet himself by any means. What would his father and his acquaintances in Eaton say to him when he reached home, was the question that worried and haunted him continually.
Oscar said all he could to cheer him, and the next morning he placed in his hands a sum of money sufficient to bear all his expenses, and accompanied him to the station.
The coach arrived in time and the runaway, after shaking Oscar warmly by the hand, and thanking him over and over again for his kindness, climbed to a seat on the top, and in five minutes more was whirled away out of sight.
CHAPTER XXIX. A VOICE FROM THE SNOW-DRIFT.
It was a clear, cold afternoon in February. School had just been dismissed, and among those who came down the stairs, and paused to put on their gloves and pull the collars of their overcoats about their ears before venturing out into the frosty air, were Sam Hynes and Leon Parker.
These two were often seen together now, and we may add that the former had twice been kept after school since Leon came home, and reprimanded for fighting.
But Sam declared that he had never had a fight in his life. Perhaps he hadn't; but it is nevertheless true that he had shaken one boy until every tooth in his head rattled, and washed another's face in the snow.