"And you never told on us?" asked Dick. "Then you've been mighty
kind and I'm ashamed to look you in the face."

"Never be ashamed to look anyone in the face, my boy. It isn't good
to take even a little thing that doesn't belong to you, but that
won't happen again to you. But weren't you playing truant when you
had that tough supper in my woods? Doesn't your conscience trouble
you at all about that?"

"Not a bit," said Dick; "that wasn't mean."

It was fortunate for Dick's peace of mind that his conscience wasn't
troubled by mischief, for he was never out of it and was at the root
of about all the purely mischievous happenings at the school.

Even the lesson of the camping incident and the doctor's kindly talk
wore off in a fortnight. Yet he was popular with teachers as well as
pupils. His head was crowned with a mass of sandy hair and his
impertinent face plastered with freckles. The boy was quick and full
of grace as a wildcat and so well built and lithe that he was a
terror on the football team.

Dick was often too busy to attend to his studies and fell behind in
his lessons, until the good doctor sent for him and gave him an
earnest but understanding talk which sent the boy back to his books,
filled with remorse and determined to get to the head of his class
in a hurry. One of these resolves was usually effective for about a
week. After which Dick generally suffered a severe relapse.