ou doing here?"

"We're running away," I said.

And he said, "Good luck. But be sure and get back before dark."

"But this is a real running away," I said.

And then both he and his wife laughed.

"All right," he said. "Good luck just the same. But watch out the bears
and mountain lions don't get you when it gets dark."

Then they rode away laughing, pleasant like; but I wished he hadn't said
that about the bears and mountain lions.

After we got around the hill, I found a trail, and we went much faster.
Charley didn't have any more signs of fits, and began laughing and
talking about gold mines. The trouble was with little Albert. He was
almost as big as me. You see, all the time I'd been calling him little
Albert, he'd been growing up. He was so heavy I couldn't keep up with
Joe and Charley. I was all out of breath. So I told them they'd have to
take turns in carrying him, which they said they wouldn't. Then I said
I'd leave them and they'd get lost, and the mountain lions and bears
would eat them. Charley looked like he was going to have a fit right
there, and Joe said, "Give him to me." And after that we carried him in
turn.

We kept right on up that mountain. I don't think there was any gold
mine, but we might 'a' got to the top and found it, if we hadn't lost
the trail, and if it hadn't got dark, and if little Albert hadn't tired
us all out carrying him. Lots of feebs are scared of the dark, and Joe
said he was going to have a fit right there. Only he didn't. I never saw
such an unlucky boy. He never could throw a fit when he wanted to. Some
of the feebs can throw fits as quick as a wink.

By and by it got real black, and we were hungry, and we didn't have no
fire. You see, they don't let feebs carry matches, and all we could do
was just shiver. And we'd never thought about being hungry. You see,
feebs always have their food ready for them, and that's why it's better
to be a feeb than earning your living in the world.

And worse than everything was the quiet. There was only one thing worse,
and it was the noises. There was all kinds of noises every once in a
while, with quiet spells in between. I reckon they were rabbits, but
they made noises in the brush like wild animals--you know, rustle
rustle, thump, bump, crackle crackle, just like that. First Charley got
a fit, a real one, and Joe threw a terrible one. I don't mind fits in
the Home with everybody around. But out in the woods on a dark night is
di