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“I don’t care what you say. Nobody believes you. Your father is in the penitentiary.”

The taunt struck home as it always did. It was not the first time that Joey had been twitted with his father by his boyish companions. But never before by Jimmy! It always hurt him, and he had never before made any response to it. His face would flush crimson, his lips would quiver, and his big grey eyes darken miserably with the shadow that was on his life; he would turn away in silence. But that Jimmy, his best beloved chum, should say such a thing to him; oh, it hurt terribly.

There is nothing so merciless as a small boy. Jimmy saw his advantage and vindictively pursued it.

“Your father stole money, that’s what he did! You know he did. I’m pretty glad my father isn’t a thief. Your father is. And when he gets out of prison, he’ll go on stealing again. My father says he will. Nobody’ll have anything to do with him, my father says. His own sister won’t have anything to do with him. So there, Joey Churchill!”

“There will somebody have something to do with him!” cried Joey hotly. He slid off the bench and faced Jimmy proudly and confidently. The unseen watcher on the other side of the hedge saw his face grow white and intense and set-lipped, as if it had been the face of a man. The grey eyes were alight with a steady, fearless glow.

“I’ll have something to do with him. He is my father and I love him. I don’t care what he did, I love him just as well as if he was the best man in the world. I love him better than if he was as good as your father, because he needs it more. I’ve always loved him ever since I found out about him. I’d write to him and tell him so, if Aunt Beatrice would tell me where to send the letter. Aunt Beatrice won’t ever talk about him or let me talk about him, but I think about him all the time. And he’s going to be a good man yet, yes, he is, just as good as your father, Jimmy Morris. I’m going to make him good. I made up my mind years ago what I would do and I’m going to do it, so there, Jimmy.”

“I don’t see what you can do,” muttered Jimmy, already ashamed of what he had said and wishing he had let Joey’s father alone.

“I’ll tell you what I can do!” Joey was confronting all the world now, with his head thrown back and his face flushed with his earnestness. “I can love him and stand by him, and I will. When he gets out of–of prison, he’ll come to see me, I know he will. And I’m just going to hug him and kiss him and say, ‘Never mind, Father. I know you’re sorry for what you’ve done, and you’re never going to do it any more. You’re going to be a good man and I’m going to stand by you.’ Yes, sir, that’s just what I’m going to say to him. I’m all the children he has and there’s nobody else to love him, because I know Aunt Beatrice doesn’t. And I’m going with him wherever he goes.”

“You can’t,” said Jimmy in a scared tone. “Your Aunt Beatrice won’t let you.”

“Yes, she will. She’ll have to. I belong to my father. And I think he’ll be coming pretty soon some way. I’m pretty sure the time must be ‘most up. I wish he would come. I want to see him as much as can be, ’cause I know he’ll need me. And I’ll be proud of him yet, Jimmy Morris, yes, I’ll be just as proud as you are of your father. When I get bigger, nobody will call my father names, I can tell you. I’ll fight them if they do, yes, sir, I will. My father and I are going to stand by each other like bricks. Aunt Beatrice has lots of children of her own and I don’t believe she’ll be a bit sorry when I go away. She’s ashamed of my father ’cause he did a bad thing. But I’m not, no, sir. I’m going to love him so much that I’ll make up to him for everything else. And you can just go home, Jimmy Morris, so there!”