There, upon a pile of old potato sacks, lay Gus Plum, sleeping soundly. Close at hand lay a small flask which had contained liquor but which was now empty. Dave smelt of it, and then, going to the doorway, threw it far out into the deep snow.
If Dave's heart had never been heavy before it was heavy now. Gus Plum had promised faithfully to reform and he had imagined that the former bully would keep his word. But, according to Shadow's statement, Plum had fallen from grace twice, and if he would reform at all was now a question.
"It's fearful, isn't it, Dave?" said the story-teller of the school, in a whisper.
"Yes, Shadow, I—I hardly know what to say—I hoped for so much from Gus—I thought he'd make one of the best fellows in this school after all—after he had lived down the past. But now" Dave's voice broke and he could not go on for a moment.
"We can't leave him here—and if we take him into the school" began Chip Macklin.
"How long has he been here?"
"Not over an hour or two," answered Shadow.
"He must have gone to town for the liquor."
"Unless he had it on hand—he went to town a couple of days ago," said Chip.
"We've got to do something quick—or we'll
