"I should like to," said Dexter thoughtfully, for the idea of the fishing seemed to drive away the troubles from which he suffered.

"Well, come then. I'd go any day, only you must let me have all you caught."

"All?" said Dexter, as he began to think of trophies.

"Yes. As I showed you the place where they're caught, I should want to take them home."

"All right," said Dexter. "You could have them."

"Ah, it's all very well," said the boy, "but there wouldn't be many that you caught, mate. Ah! No, he's off again. Keep a little furder back."

Dexter obeyed, and sat down on the gra.s.s, feeling in a half-despairing mood, but as if the company of this rough boy was very pleasant after what he had gone through, and that boys like this were more agreeable to talk to than young tyrants of the cla.s.s of Edgar Danby.

"Fish don't half bite to-day," said Bob Dimsted. "I wish you'd got a rod here, I could lend you a line--single hair."

"But I haven't got a rod."

"Well, run home and fetch it," said Bob.

"Run home and fetch it?" How could he run home and fetch it? How could he ever go back to the doctor's again?

"No," he said at last, as he shook his head. "I can't go and fetch it."

"Then you can't fish," said the boy, "and 'tain't much use. It's no fun unless they bite, and some days it don't matter how you try, they won't."

"Won't they?" said Dexter, and then he started to his feet, for a familiar voice had spoken close to his ear--

"Why, Dexter!"

The voice was as full of astonishment as the pleasant face which looked in his.

"I thought you were at Sir James Danby's! Is Edgar out here, in the meadows!"

"No--no," faltered Dexter; and Bob Dimsted began to gather up his tackle, so as to make a strategic movement, there being evidently trouble in the rear.

"But what does this mean?" said Helen firmly. "Who is that boy?"

"Bob--Bob Dimsted."

"And do you know him?"

"He--he was fishing opposite our--your--garden the day I fell into the river," faltered Dexter; and he looked longingly at Bob, who was quickly moving away, and wished that those eyes did not hold him so firmly, and keep him from doing the same.

"Was he at your school?"

"No," faltered Dexter.

"Then I am sure papa would not like you to be making acquaintance with boy's like that. But come, Dexter. What is the meaning of all this? I left you at Sir James Danby's."

"Yes," said Dexter, shuffling from foot to foot.

"Then why are you not there now--playing with Edgar?"

Dexter did not answer, but seemed to be admiring the prospect.

"Why, Dexter, your face is all scratched!"

Dexter looked up at her, with the scratched face scarlet.

"How is that!" continued Helen sternly.

"Fighting," said Dexter grimly.

"Fighting? Oh, shame! And with that rough boy!"

"No!" cried Dexter quickly. "He didn't knock me about."

"Then who did!"

"That young Danby."

Dexter's lips were well opened now, and he went on talking rapidly.

"I never did anything to him, but he went on for an hour walking all round the garden, and wouldn't speak; and when I was tired and sat down, he got a stick and knocked me about, and poked me with the point. I stood it as long as I could, and then, when he got worse and worse, I pitched into him, and I'm sure you would have done the same."

Helen did not look as if she would have done the same, but stood gazing at the young monkey before her, wondering whether he was deserving of her sympathy, or had really misbehaved himself, and was trying to palliate his conduct.

"There, Dexter," she said at last. "I really do not know what to do with you. You had better come on and see papa at once."

She took a step toward the town, and then waited, but Dexter stood firm, and cast a glance toward the country.

"Dexter, did you hear what I said!"

The boy looked at her uneasily, and then nodded sullenly.

"Come home with me, then, at once," said Helen quickly.

"It's no use for me to come home along of you," said Dexter surlily.

"He'll hit me, and I don't want to go."

Helen hesitated for a few moments, and then laid her hand upon the boy's shoulder.

"I wish you to come, Dexter."

He shook his head.

"Come," she cried, "if you have been in fault confess it frankly."

"But I haven't," cried the boy angrily. "I couldn't help fighting when he knocked me about as he did. He bit me too. Look there!"