acting upon the suggestion. I had some money now. Why could I not
go, and take her with me? But I had not enough to pay our fares to New
Orleans, and there was no other place to which I could go. Besides,
Captain Fishley would not let us go. If we went by any public
conveyance, he could easily stop us.

"I have it!" I exclaimed, in a tone so loud that Sim was disturbed in
his interesting occupation.

He started from his seat, and looked at me, with his mouth filled with
food, his jaws suspending their pleasing occupation.

"Did you speak to me, Buck?" he called.

"No," I replied, walking towards him.

I looked at him, and realized that he was beginning to weary of his
task. Doubtless he felt it to be a duty to eat all he could; but he had
already disposed of the major part of what I had brought him, and was
still struggling manfully with the balance.

"I heard you say, 'I have it,'" added Sim, jumbling the words through
the food in his mouth.

"Well, I have it."

"So have I. That's the best meal of victuals I've had for a year. I'm
sorry I can't eat no more."

"You will get hungry again."

"Shall I keep the rest of it?" he asked.

"Certainly; and when that is gone, I will bring you some more."

"Thank you, Buck. I knowed you'd help me, and that's what I wanted to
see you for."

"I think I heard you say that before. Now, Sim, what are you going to
do?"

"I don't know," he replied, blankly.

"You have left Barkspear's. Are you going back again?"

"I don't know. That's what I wanted to see you for."

"Haven't you any idea what you intend to do?"

"Not the leastest grain in the world. That's what I wanted to see you
for, you see."

"But you wish to do something."

"I don't care. If I get enough to eat, it don't make no difference to
me. I shan't get much to eat if I go back to Barkspear's."

This seemed to be the great question with him. He was willing to work
hard for enough to eat. He was not a dandy, and the clothes question did
not trouble him. It was only terrible to be hungry.

"Sim, I'm going to run away myself," said I.

"What, from Fishley's?" he demanded, opening his eyes.

"Yes, from Fishley's."

"Don't they give you enough to eat?"

"Plenty."

"What do you want to run away for, then?" asked he; and, if the
provision question was all right, he did not think there ought to be
trouble about any other matter.

"They don't use me well, and they don't use my sister well."

"But