"You should speak out, my lad," said the artist. "Some wrong work has been going on, and we wish to get at the bottom of it, don't you know."
"I'll tell you, Miss Williams," spoke Bob; "you had better ask Ned about it."
"But he is not here, Bob."
"No, but I'll try and find him."
"I wish you would. Bob," said the teacher.
Bob started out on his hunt for the truant. He wondered a good deal about what was up. Nobody on the playground had seen Ned. Finally, a boy who lived near by, and who had run home for a quick bite to eat, told Bob that little Ned was playing over near a spring in the woods.
Bob came across Ned wading in some water. His feet were soaked and his clothes muddy. He had been building a little dam, and he looked reckless and unhappy.
"Teacher wants you, Ned," said Bob.
"I don't want to see teacher," spoke Ned, in a sullen way.
"You've got to."
"What for?"
"She'll tell you."
"I won't go," declared the little fellow, starting to wade deeper into the water.
"No, you don't," said Bob, quickly, catching hold of Ned's arm. "See here, don't be a gump. The artist who boards down at your house is up at the schoolhouse with the teacher."
"Oh, is he?" cried Ned, brightening up. "I'll go, then, Bob."
All the scholars looked curious as Bob crossed the playground with Ned in his charge.
"Close the door, Bob," spoke Miss Williams, as Bob led Ned into the schoolroom. "You can remain, if you like."
