At a loss for words, Nelson was silent. He was still unable to comprehend Osgood’s motive for this confession. Perhaps Osgood himself did not know what had led him to make it, beyond the fact that he had suddenly been overcome by an intense desire to unburden himself in a measure.

The silence became awkward, and Jack stirred restlessly. His elbows on his knees, the other boy was staring broodingly at the ground. Roused by Nelson’s movement, he lifted his head slowly.

“Well,” he said, almost whimsically, “you see now what a cheap, common skate I am.”

“A fellow who blunders and owns up to it, partly atones for his mistake, anyhow,” returned Nelson. “We’re none of us perfect, old chap. We’re all human, and we have our little failings.”

“It’s very decent of you to talk that way, Nelson. I didn’t expect it. I had no reason to expect it. You’ve every right to be thoroughly disgusted with me, and I’m disgusted with myself.”

“I can’t see that you’ve actually harmed anybody yet.”

“That’s because you don’t know everything. I haven’t told you all.”

“Great smoke!” exclaimed Jack, “Is there more to tell?”

“Some time, before long, when everything comes out, you’ll be compelled to think even less of me than you do now.”

“Look here,” said Nelson suddenly, “do you know anything about the cause of this Hooker trouble? You must be referring to that; it can’t be anything else.”

“Whatever I know you will learn in time,” was the evasive answer.

“You aren’t responsible for his condition?”

“I didn’t strike the blow.”

“You do know about it! Why haven’t you told before?”

“There may be various reasons. As one, you should see that it meant exposure for me; it meant looking into my past record and bringing to life the fact that I’m a faker.”

“Now that you’ve told that much about yourself, I can’t see any good reason why you should not tell it all. Seems to me it’s your duty.”

Osgood seemed to meditate again. “There are others concerned,” he said presently, “and I have a duty to them as well as to myself. What I’ve told of my own affairs doesn’t concern them, and I will claim that I’ve never yet played the squealer on any other chap.”

“But the truth will have to come out.”

“I haven’t a doubt about that. Let it come. But when it does, let it come from the right source.”

“I suspected that you must know something about it.”

“Oh, yes, you’ve suspected me all along, Nelson. In possession of the facts I’ve given you, it will be a simple matter for you to show me up in Oakdale.”

“If you imagine I’m going to run right away and tattle what you’ve practically told me in confidence, you’ve got me sized up wrong.”

“I was not aware that I told it to you in confidence. I do not remember that I exacted from you a promise of secrecy.”

“Perhaps that was because you thought I’d tell anyhow.”

“I didn’t think much about it. I didn’t stop to think. When the impulse seized me, I simply went ahead and told.”

“Perhaps you’ll be sorry you did.”

“Perhaps so, but it’s done now.”

Jack rose once more and placed a hand on his companion’s shoulder.

“Osgood,” he said, “I refuse to believe that a fellow with a conscience like yours can be thoroughly bad. Your natural impulses are right. You didn’t bind me to secrecy, but I’ll pledge you now that I’m not going to give you away.”

“I don’t suppose it will make any great difference whether you do or not,” returned Ned unemotionally; “but I thank you for your good will. Hadn’t we better look up the rest of the bunch? By this time they’re probably wondering what has become of us.”

As he was starting to rise, Jack gripped his shoulder, hissing:

“Keep still! What’s that? Some one is coming this way!”

From a distance came the sounds of a body moving through the underbrush. Slowly the sounds drew nearer, ceasing at intervals, as if the person, if a person it was, paused now and then to rest or listen.

“Who do you suppose it is?” whispered Nelson. “It doesn’t seem to me it can be one of the fellows coming back this way.”

Osgood shook his head as he rose noiselessly to his feet. Looking at each other, the same thought filled their minds.

Perhaps it was Roy Hooker!

Not far from them, yet wholly concealed by the thickets and the shadows, the moving object halted and remained silent for a long time. Gradually this silence wore upon their patience, and presently Nelson made signs indicating that he meant to investigate with all possible caution. Osgood nodded, and, side by side, they crept forward, stepping softly and peering anxiously into the gloom.

Beneath Nelson’s foot a dead branch snapped with a report like a toy pistol. Almost instantly there was a movement in the thicket, a rushing sound, a crashing as of a person in flight.

“Confound it!” exclaimed Jack. “Come on, Osgood, let’s run the thing down.”

Through the bushes and the shadows, they dashed in pursuit. Osgood, following the other boy too closely, was lashed in the face by whipping branches, which stung and blinded him. At the first opportunity he turned aside and chose a course he believed to be parallel with that Nelson was pursuing. All at once he perceived they were no longer guided by sounds made by the one they were after, and he stopped short to listen. The other boy ran on much farther before he also stopped.

Again the woods, bathed in the white light of the moon, seemed hushed and silent.

“Oh, Osgood! Where are you?”

It was Jack calling.

Ned had opened his lips to answer when something touched his ankle—touched it and gripped it. Looking down, he was amazed to see that it was a human hand thrust out from beneath a thick, low cluster of bushes, and for the moment the discovery robbed him of the power to make a sound.

The low bushes stirred. A head was pushed forth into a patch of moonlight, and to Ned’s ears came a tremulous, choking whisper, full of fear and pleading:

“Don’t answer, Osgood—for the love of goodness, don’t answer!”

Ned was looking down into the distraught, fear-stricken face of Charley Shultz!