On the other side of the avenue a tall man came out, with a green bag under his arm, stepped into a passing stage, and rolled away.

Ten minutes later two lads emerged with their books slung over their shoulders, and crossed toward them.
"That's the boy--the one on the left," said Mr.Belcher.At the same moment the lad looked up, and apparently saw the two faces watching him, for he quickened his pace.
"That's Harry Benedict," exclaimed Mr.Belcher's son and heir.

The words were hardly out of his mouth when Mr.Belcher started from his chair, ran down-stairs with all the speed possible within the range of safety, and intercepted the lads at a side door, which opened upon the street along which they were running.
"Stop, Harry, I want to speak to you," said the proprietor, sharply.
Harry stopped, as if frozen to the spot in mortal terror.
"Come along," said Thede Balfour, tugging at his hand, "you'll be late at school." Poor Harry could no more have walked than he could have flown.

Mr.
Belcher saw the impression he had made upon him, and became soft and insinuating in his manner.
"I'm glad to see you, my boy," said Mr.Belcher.

"Come into the house, and see the children.