ly Jolly Roger would not
cross, but remained with Peter, and would lie on his back at the edge of
a grassy knoll they had found, reading one of the little old-fashioned
red books which Peter knew were very precious to him. Often he wondered
what was between the faded red covers that was so interesting, and if he
could have read he would have seen such titles as "Margaret of Anjou,"
"History of Napoleon," "History of Peter the Great," "Caesar," "Columbus
the Discoverer," and so on through the twenty volumes which Jolly Roger
had taken from a wilderness mail two years before, and which he now
prized next to his life.

This afternoon, as they lay in the sleepy quiet of June, Jolly Roger
answered the questioning inquisitiveness in Peter's face and eyes.

"You see, Pied-Bot, it was this way," he said, beginning a little
apologetically. "I was dying for something to read, and I figgered
there'd be something on the Mail--newspapers, you know. So I stopped
it, and tied up the driver, and found these. And I swear I didn't take
anything else--that time. There's twenty of them, and they weigh nine
pounds, and in the last two years I've toted them five thousand miles. I
wouldn't trade them for my weight in gold, and I'm pretty heavy. I
named you after one of them--Peter. I pretty near called you Christopher
Columbus. And some day we've got to take these books to the man they
were going to, Peter. I've promised myself that. It seems sort of like
stealing the soul out of someone. I just borrowed them, that's all. And
I've kept the address of the owner, away up on the edge of the Barrens.
Some day we're going to make a special trip to take the books home."

Peter, all at once, had become interested in something else, and
following the direction of his pointed nose Jolly Roger saw Nada
standing quietly on the opposite side of the stream, looking at them. In
a moment Peter knew her, and he was trembling in every muscle when
Jolly Roger caught him up under his arm, and with a happy laugh plunged
through the creek with him. For a good five minutes after that Jolly
Roger stood aside watching Peter and Nada, and there was a glisten
of dampness in his eyes when he saw the wet on Nada's cheeks, and the
whimpering joy of Peter as he caressed her face and hands. Three weeks
had been a long time to Peter, but he could see no difference in the
little mistress he worshipped. There were still the radiant curls to
hide his nose in, the gentle hand