"Seems to me it's a little like marching up to the cannon's mouth," Max
said to himself, as he took out his writing materials and dipped his pen
in the ink, "but it's got to be done, and I'll have it over."
He cogitated a moment, then began. "Dear papa, I've been doing very wrong
for 'most a week--letting a fellow teach me to play cards and gamble; we
didn't play for money or anything but fun at first, but afterward we did;
and I lost all the money I had, and, worse still, the nice watch you sent
me.
"But the very worst is to come. You would never believe I could be so
terribly wicked after all you said to me, and I wouldn't have believed it
myself, and oh, I don't like to tell you, for I'm afraid it will almost
break your heart, papa, to know you have such a wicked boy for your only
son!
"But I have to tell you, because you know you said I must tell you
everything bad I did.
"Well, I was sure the fellow had cheated, and I got very mad, and called
him a cheat and a thief. Then he got mad and swore horrible oaths at me,
and called me a liar, and that made me madder than ever, and--O papa, how
can I write it for you to see? I swore at him.
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