ed Dan running round the half-mile triangle as if for a wager.
He was all alone, and seemed possessed by some strange desire to run
himself into a fever, or break his neck; for, after several rounds, he
tried leaping walls, and turning somersaults up the avenue, and finally
dropped down on the grass before the door as if exhausted.

"Are you training for a race, Dan?" asked Mrs. Jo, from the window where
she sat.

He looked up quickly, and stopped panting to answer, with a laugh,

"No; I'm only working off my steam."

"Can't you find a cooler way of doing it? You will be ill if you tear
about so in such warm weather," said Mrs. Jo, laughing also, as she
threw him out a great palm-leaf fan.

"Can't help it. I must run somewhere," answered Dan, with such an odd
expression in his restless eyes, that Mrs. Jo was troubled, and asked,
quickly,

"Is Plumfield getting too narrow for you?"

"I wouldn't mind if it was a little bigger. I like it though; only the
fact is the devil gets into me sometimes, and then I do want to bolt."

The words seemed to come against his will, for he looked sorry the
minute they were spoken, and seemed to think he deserved a reproof for
his ingratitude. But Mrs. Jo understood the feeling, and though sorry to
see it, she could not blame the boy for confessing it. She looked at him
anxiously, seeing how tall and strong he had grown, how full of energy
his face was, with its eager eyes and resolute mouth; and remembering
the utter freedom he had known for years before, she felt how even the
gentle restraint of this home would weigh upon him at times when the old
lawless spirit stirred in him. "Yes," she said to herself, "my wild hawk
needs a larger cage; and yet, if I let him go, I am afraid he will be
lost. I must try and find some lure strong enough to keep him safe."

"I know all about it," she added, aloud. "It is not 'the devil,' as you
call it, but the very natural desire of all young people for liberty. I
used to feel just so, and once, I really did think for a minute that I
would bolt."

"Why didn't you?" said Dan, coming to lean on the low window-ledge, with
an evident desire to continue the subject.

"I knew it was foolish, and love for my mother kept me at home."

"I haven't got any mother," began Dan.

"I thought you had now," said Mrs. Jo, gently stroking the rough hair
off his hot forehead.

"You are no end good to me, and I can't ever thank you enough, but it
just isn't