"
And teaching him to beg and sing and shake hands, filled many a merry
half-hour that autumn, and the Fowley's would scarcely have known Dick,
if they had seen him there.
When the examination day came he managed to get through successfully,
though his paperwork had to have allowances made for its deficiencies.
But at home all the effects of Susy's rescue had passed away, and Dick
was more scolded and starved than ever before.
CHAPTER III.
A DASH FOR FREEDOM.
"Here, you young rascal, I'll teach you to meddle with my tools! What
have you done with my knife?"
"I haven't had it," said Dick, looking up from the stocking he was
awkwardly trying to darn by the firelight.
His hands were quite healed now, but still stiff and scarred from the
burns, though the doctor had said the marks would get less as time went
on.
"None of your tales, now. Tim said he saw you with it to-day. Give it
me back this minute, or you shall have a dressing you won't forget in a
hurry!"
"But I haven't seen it even," cried Dick earnestly. "Tim must have
made a mistake."
"Oh, of course! Putting it on Tim, as usual," sneered Mrs. Fowley.
"Your impudence is getting past bearing. Just go and get the knife
this minute."
Dick stood up uncertainly, not knowing how to prove his innocence.
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