s for caresses,
and with his confidences for sympathy and understanding.

Now there was nothing in Bruce's mind but to get to his mother. While
his breath lasted and he burned with outraged pride and humiliation, the
boy ran, his thought a confused jumble of mortification that Mrs. Mosher
should know that he got "lickings," of regret for the gizzard and mashed
potatoes and lemon pie, of wonder as to what his mother would say when
he came home in the middle of the night and told her that he had walked
all the way alone.

He dropped to a trot, and then to a walk, for it was hot, and even a
hurt and angry boy cannot run forever. The tears dried to grimy streaks
on his cheeks, and the sun blistered his face and neck, while he
discovered that stretches of stony road were mighty hard on the soles of
the feet. But he walked on purposefully, with no thought of going back,
thinking of the comforting arms and shoulder that awaited him at the
other end. After all, nobody took any interest in rocks, except mother;
nobody cared about the things he really liked, except mother.

Toward the end of the afternoon his footsteps lagged, and sunset found
him resting by the roadside. He was so hungry! He felt so little, so
alone, and the coming darkness brought disturbing thoughts of coyotes
and prairie wolves, of robbers and ghosts that the hired man said he had
seen when he had stayed out too late o' nights.

Ravines, with their still, eloquent darkness, are fearsome places for
imaginative boys to pass alone. Hobgoblins--the very name sent chills up
and down Bruce's spine--would be most apt to lurk in some such place,
waiting, waiting to jump on his back! He broke and ran.

The stars came out, and a late moon found him trudging still. He limped
and his sturdy shoulders sagged. He was tired, and, oh, so sleepy, but
the prolonged howl of a wolf, coming from somewhere a long way off, kept
him from dropping to the ground. Who would have believed that
twenty-five miles was such a distance? He stopped short, and how hard
his heart pumped blood! Stock-still and listening, he heard the clatter
of hoofs coming down the road ahead of him. Who would be out this time
of night but robbers? He looked about him; there was no place on the
flat prairie to hide except a particularly dark ravine some little way
back which had taken all his courage to go through without running.

Between robbers and hobgoblins there seemed small choice, but he chose
rob