"It isn't fair," Don told himself bitterly. "If there was somebody who could make him stay home—"
His eyes puckered and his mouth grew tight. He had told Bobbie that this wasn't carrying tales. It wasn't. Suddenly he turned to his left and went up a side street.
A few minute's later he rang the doorbell of a plain, pleasant-looking house. The screen door opened.
"Good afternoon, Donald," said a woman's voice. "Are you looking for Mr.
Wall?"
"Yes, Mrs. Wall." Don's cap was in his hand. "Is he home? Could I see him right away?"
Mrs. Wall shook her head. "He went to the city this morning. I do not expect him until evening. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"N-no," said Don. He went down the stoop, stumbling on the last step, and walked slowly toward home.
CHAPTER V
A PLEA ON THE ROAD
Dinner was almost over when Don reached home. Barbara brought his food from the kitchen where she had kept it warm.