"Who takes care of you?" asked Dorothy. "Whom do you play with?"

"Oh, father is away, and I have plenty of money to buy guns and
things. Then I go to plays a lot."

This was the sequel to the story, Dorothy thought. Would it possibly
be safe for her to take the boy's word, and let him go? As he said he
would be disgraced, and perhaps her kindness to him might be his
clearest lesson.

How good-looking he really was! Even standing there, tied, his clear
face, and light hair, could not be undervalued, from the point of fine
looks.

Somehow he was just a bit like Roger--that same round baby face, and
that one unmanageable curl that would hang down on his forehead in
spite of years, and in spite of barbers.

"I'll tell you where I put all the things," he fairly sobbed, "and
I'll give them all back, if you will only give me one more chance. I
remember the Bible always gave folks a second chance."

Dorothy could not repress a smile. Yes, that was true--the Bible
taught forgiveness.

"Quick! They're coming!" he pleaded. "Untie me, and I--I'll run."

Dorothy heard the voices. Quickly she untied the slip knot and almost
as speedily as he had been tied, the lad was made free.