afraid of all the boys in this one-horse town."

"Of course not," said Anderson.

"I did have an elephant when I lived in Hillfield, and I did ride
him, and I did have circuses every Saturday," said the boy, with
challenge.

Anderson said nothing.

"At least--" said the child, in a modified tone. Anderson looked at
him with an air of polite waiting. The boy's roses bloomed again. "At
least--" he faltered, "at least--" A maid rang a dinner-bell
frantically in the doorway of the house near which they were
standing. Anderson glanced at her, then back at the boy. "At least--"
said the boy, with a blurt of confidence which yielded nothing, but
implied the recognition of a friend and understander in the
man--"at--least I used to make believe I had an elephant when I lived
in Hillfield."

"Yes?" said Anderson. He made a movement to go, and the boy still
kept at his side.

"And--" he added, but still with no tone of apology or confession, "I
might have had an elephant."

"Yes," said Anderson, "you might have."

"And they did not know but what I might," said the boy, angrily.