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Mrs. Mifsud, in the lead of the rescuing party, ran through the garden gate in time to see St. Elmo fall headlong, his feet having become entangled in the long rank grass near the fence. “It’s time Billy was at home,” he heard his mother say as he opened her room door; and he stumbled on more hurriedly, across the bridge—at last, the Fo’castle! Moses regained his equilibrium and as the water came just to his hips he turned to retrace his way to the steps down which he had wandered..

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“He smiles sich a toothy grin,” commented Moses. Hot water, lotions, a mother’s tender hands, best of all, a mother’s comprehending heart,—it is wonderful what cures these can make. In an hour Billy was comparatively at ease. His sore body still ached, and his eyes “felt like red fire on the Fourth,” he said; but the world seemed less dark, and he was glad his mother had not taken him at his word and left him to bear his trouble alone. Mr. Crump indulged in an unusual hobby, the collection of old musical instruments, and a motley group it was that Moses eyed with growing wonder. “What has happened to you, Billy?” his mother questioned sharply as she turned at his voice and saw his damaged head. “You’re hurt, Billy!”.