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 Wesley picked up the small figure and set the boy on the back of a horse to bring his face level so that they could talk as men. He never towered from his height above Billy, but always lifted the little soul when important matters were to be discussed. "Now what a dandy scheme," he commented. "Did you and Aunt Margaret fix it up?" "No. She ain't had hers yet. But I got one for her. Ist as soon as you eat yours, I am going to take hers, and feed her first time I find her in the dark." "But, Billy, where did you get the cookies? You know Aunt Margaret said you were not to have any." "I ist took them," said Billy. "I didn't take them for me. I ist took them for you and her." Wesley swallowed hard and thought fast. In the warm darkness of the barn the horses crunched their corn, a rat gnawed at a corner of the granary, and among the rafters the white pigeon cooed a soft sleepy note to his dusky mate. "Did—did—I steal?" wavered Billy through the darkness. Wesley's big hands closed until he almost hurt the boy. "No!" he said vehemently. "That is too big a word. You just made a mistake. You were trying to be a fine little man, but you went at it the wrong way. You only made a mistake. All of us do that, Billy. The world grows that way. When we make mistakes we can see them; that teaches us to be more careful the next time, and so we learn."