Dickie followed her as fast as he could. Several times he fell, but, on
the whole, he made fairly rapid progress, so that, by the time she dashed
into the Hudsons' gate, he was only a few steps behind her and caught the
gate before it shut. Sheila fled up the steps and beat at the door with
her fist. Dickie was just behind her.

Sylvester himself opened the door. Back of him pressed Babe.

"Why, say," she said, "it's Sheila and she's got a beau already. You're
some girl--"

"Please let me in," begged Sheila; "I--I am frightened. It's your
brother, Dickie--but I think--there's something wrong--"

Sylvester put his hand on her and pushed her to one side.

He strode out on the small porch. Dickie wavered before him on
the top step.

"I thought I'd make the ac-acquaintance of the young lady," he began
doubtfully. "I saw her admiring at the stars and I--"

"Oh, you did!" snarled Hudson. "All right. Now go and make acquaintance
with the bottom step." He thrust a long, hard hand at Dickie's chest, and
the boy fell backward, clattering ruefully down the steps with a rattle
of thin knees and elbows. At the bottom he lay for a minute, painfully
huddled in the snow.

"Go in, Miss Sheila," said Sylvester. "I'm sorry my son came home