His Big Opportunity | Page 7

was peremptory, but Dudley never moved, until the
command was given in a sharper tone. Then he raised his head, but his
blue eyes had a guilty harassed look in them, and he dropped them
quickly again.
"It's no good; I've found you out. Did you tie up your feet like that
yourself?"
After a minute, in a sepulchral tone, came the words, "Yes, when you
weren't looking!"
Roy lay back on his pillows with a sigh.
A little disappointment mingled with his feelings which were
somewhat mixed. After a pause, he said, "You are a good fellow! To
think of doing that for me! What would you have done if I hadn't
jumped in to save you?"
Then Dudley raised his head:
"I knew you wouldn't fail me," he said, triumphantly; "I knew I could
trust you!"
Roy put out his thin little arm and drew Dudley's bonny face down by
the side of his on the pillow.

"I don't think," he whispered, "that even I could have been plucky
enough to do that--not in sight of that old mill wheel!"
Neither spoke for a few minutes; then Dudley said,
"I should have been your murderer if you had died. That has been the
worst of it. But you did like saving a drowning fellow, didn't you?"
"Ye-es, but it wasn't quite real--at least it isn't as if you really had
tumbled in by accident."
"Well but I only did what you said we must do. I made an opportunity."
And after this remark Roy had nothing more to say; but neither he nor
Dudley ever enlightened any one as to the true cause of the accident.
When Roy had quite recovered, the two boys set out one afternoon to
visit their greatest friend in the village. This was the old man every one
called "old Principle." He lived by himself in a curious three-cornered
house at the extreme end of the village, and kept a little general shop
where everything but eatables could be obtained.
"I keep every article that man, woman, or child can want for their use,
for their homes, their work or their play; but food and drink I will not
cater for. It's against my principles to sell perishable goods, and I will
not be the one to minister to the very lowest animal wants of my fellow
creatures."
This was his favorite speech, from which it may be judged he was
somewhat of a character.
He had several hobbies, and was a well-read man and superior to those
around him; and perhaps this was the cause of his holding himself aloof
from most of the villagers. They termed him "cranky and cracked," but
his goods were always acceptable, and he was thoroughly successful in
his business. When his shop was closed he would go out on the hills,
and there spend his time studying geology and botany. He knew the
name of every plant and insect, and the strata of the earth for many

miles round; and it was out of doors that the boys first made his
acquaintance.
They found him on this afternoon seated behind his counter mending
an eight-day clock.
"Well, old Principle, how are you?" said Roy, climbing up to the
counter and sitting comfortably on it with his legs dangling in mid air;
"we haven't seen you for ages."
"Are you going out this evening?" enquired Dudley, as he proceeded to
follow Roy's example.
"To be sure, when my work is done," responded the old man pushing
up his spectacles and regarding the boys with kindly eyes; "these light
evenings are my delight, as you know. If you sit still till I have finished
this clock, I will show you a treasure I found yesterday."
"Can you mend everything?" asked Roy, curiously; "I never knew you
understood about clocks."
"I've learned to mend most things," was the answer; "it isn't given to
every one to make, and I'm one of the menders in the world not the
makers. There's one thing I can't mend--and that is broken hearts."
There was silence: Roy broke it at last by saying with knitted brow, "I'd
rather be a maker than a mender, but lots of people aren't either."
"Quite right," nodded the old man; "most folk are breakers."
"I wish I was as clever as you," said Dudley; "you mend umbrellas, and
kettles, and plates, and windows, and gates, and all sorts. How did you
learn?"
"Well, I ain't ashamed of owning that my father was just a travelling
tinker, and when I was a little fellow I used to go round with him and
see him do most things. It was from travelling through the country I
learned to love it so. And my father, he was a thoughtful man, and

when I