There was a sudden silence.  Meg, on the outside of the crowd, experienced a distinctly uncomfortable feeling.

“Were you coasting, Palmer?” asked Mr. Carter, righting the automobile as he spoke.  Then he saw the fence.

“Who ripped off those pickets?” he demanded sternly.

“I—­I did,” admitted Bobby in a very small voice.

The clang of the gong sounded and Mr. Carter turned to the listening children.

“Go back to your classes,” he directed them.  “You stay, Bobby and Palmer.  I want to speak to you.”

Obediently the others filed in, not without many a backward glance at the group by the fence.

“Now suppose you tell me about it,” suggested Mr. Carter mildly.

So Bobby told about the drive of the previous afternoon and of how his father had landed the car in the bushes; he told about his scheme to prove that he could steer, and of how Palmer had asked to try, too.

“But he didn’t make the hole wide enough,” complained the battered Palmer.  “First try I hit the side.  I think it’s an awful silly thing to do, anyway.”

“Well, I went through without hitting anything!” said a voice unexpectedly.  “You’re always ready to make a fuss when you spoil a good game, Palmer.”

It was Meg.  She had found it impossible to desert Bobby in trouble, and had come back in time to hear Palmer’s grievance.

Mr. Carter tried not to smile.

“Aside from hurting Palmer, Bobby,” said the principal seriously, “you’ve damaged the school property.  What do you suppose Mr. Hornbeck would say if he saw that fence?” Mr. Hornbeck was one of the school committeemen.

This was something Bobby had not considered.

“I’ll mend it,” he promised hastily.  “Honestly, I never thought about hurting the fence.”

“I know you didn’t,” Mr. Carter said promptly.  “Still, that really doesn’t alter the fact that you’ve damaged property that doesn’t belong to you.  I think to help you remember another time, we’ll say you must mend the fence this morning and make up the time after school.  I’ll take Palmer in and patch him up now.  Meg, you should be in your classroom.”

“I want to help Bobby,” asserted Meg firmly.  “I’ll stay after school with him, too.  It’s just as much my fault—­I knew he shouldn’t pull off pickets, only I never told him.”

Mr. Carter looked at the little girl oddly.

“All right, only you’ll have to make up the time with Miss Mason,” he said.  “I think Bobby is a lucky boy to have such a loyal little sister.”

Meg and Bobby managed to put the pickets back and Mr. Carter found a piece of new wood with which to patch the old cross piece.  They learned that it is easier to destroy things than to mend them, and after they had stayed till half past four that night and Mother Blossom had heard the reason and forbidden them ever to take the tin automobile to school again, both children decided that a game with such a sorry ending wasn’t worth planning.