Fred Hatfield sat gloomily upon the porch steps. Ruth kept an eye on
him from the doorway. Mr. Cameron seemed to understand their position
when he came up the walk, and asked Ruth:

"So, he wants to leave; does he?"

Ruth merely nodded; but Fred Hatfield scowled at the dry-goods
merchant and turned away his head.

"Now, young man," said Mr. Cameron, standing in front of the sullen
boy, with his legs wide apart and a smile upon his ruddy face, "now,
young man, let's get to the bottom of this. You confide in me, and I
will not betray your confidence. Why don't you want to live at home?"

"I don't want to--that's all," muttered Fred Hatfield, shortly. "And
I _won't_."

Mr. Cameron shook his head. "I hate to see one so young so
obstinate," he said. "It may be that your mother and brothers and
sisters find you a sore trial; perhaps they are glad you are not at
home. But until I am sure of that I consider it my duty to keep an
eye on you. I want you to come along with us to-day."

"I know where you are going. This girl has told me," said the
light-haired youth, nodding at Ruth. "You're going up to Scarboro."

"Yes. And I propose to take you with us. We'll see whether your
mother wants you or not."

"You don't know what you're doing, sir!" gasped Fred Hatfield,