“Isn’t he silly, Mother?” demanded Meg. “If you don’t tell, Bobby Blossom, I’m going to school before you’re up and tell every one I meet.”
“Now, Meg!” remonstrated Mother Blossom. “This is Bobby’s affair, remember. But, Son, you shouldn’t feel as you do. Every one who 174 heard that you were accused of spoiling the book has a right to know that you have been absolved. I will write Miss Mason a note and explain it fully, and then Tim and Charlie will have to take the consequences. Any boy that will stand aside and let another be unjustly accused deserves whatever he gets.”
Mother Blossom’s cheeks were quite pink and her blue eyes had little sparks in them, just as Bobby’s did sometimes when he was angry.
“Mother is right,” declared Father Blossom, who had come home early and had heard the story from Aunt Polly, Meg, the twins, and Norah before he had taken off his overcoat. “Don’t fret about Tim and Charlie––those young scamps need a couple of interviews with Mr. Carter if they are not to grow up utterly reckless.”
So the next morning Bobby carried a note to Miss Mason, and when she had read it she actually hugged him and begged his pardon as simply as if he had been a grown-up friend. She wanted to tell the whole class how mistaken 175 she had been, but Bobby nearly fainted at the thought and begged her not to.
“I’ll tell them one by one, then,” announced Miss Mason, who, it seemed, could not do enough to make up for her unkindness.
Before the morning session was called nearly every child in the room knew that Bobby Blossom had not touched Miss Mason’s book but that Tim Roon was the culprit. Tim and Charlie had been sent down to the principal’s office by Miss Mason before assembly, and Miss Wright had telephoned for Mr. Carter. He came over at once, and Tim and Charlie spent an unhappy hour with him.
“You’re both cowards,” he told them hotly. “I’d have you up before the class to confess your underhanded scheme if I didn’t know that it would embarrass Bobby more than it would you. The school law won’t let me keep you longer than an hour at night, but every night for a month you’ll stay an hour after school. And, Tim, here’s a note for your father. Don’t try to get out of delivering it. I’ll call him up at 176 six o’clock to-night and ask if he has received it.”
Tim gave his father the note that night, and something very serious happened to him. More than that, he had to work every Saturday for a long, long time in his father’s store to help pay the money his father insisted on sending to Miss Mason. Of course it was impossible to replace the book, for the autographs could never be collected again, but Mr. Roon was determined to pay Miss Mason the sum her friend had spent for the book. It was a great deal of money, but “the Roons always pay up,” declared Mr. Roon, “and if it takes Tim the rest of his lazy life, he’s got to work out the money.”
Soon every one but Tim forgot the book, for the Thanksgiving Day exercises were drawing nearer and nearer. The Blossoms always had wonderful times Thanksgivings, and this year, with Aunt Polly with them, they meant to have the best holiday yet.