"I brought him along," said the shaggy man.

"What for?" she asked.

"To guard these apples in my pocket, miss, so no one would steal them."

With one hand the shaggy man held the apple, which he began eating,
while with the other hand he pulled Toto out of his pocket and dropped
him to the ground. Of course Toto made for Dorothy at once, barking
joyfully at his release from the dark pocket. When the child had patted
his head lovingly, he sat down before her, his red tongue hanging out
one side of his mouth, and looked up into her face with his bright brown
eyes, as if asking her what they should do next.

Dorothy didn't know. She looked around her anxiously for some familiar
landmark; but everything was strange. Between the branches of the many
roads were green meadows and a few shrubs and trees, but she couldn't
see anywhere the farm-house from which she had just come, or anything
she had ever seen before--except the shaggy man and Toto.

Besides this, she had turned around and around so many times, trying to
find out where she was, that now she couldn't even tell which direction
the farm-house ought to be in; and this began to worry her and make her
feel anxious.

"I'm 'fraid, Shaggy Man," she said, with a sigh, "that we're lost!"

"That's nothing to be afraid of," he replied, throwing away the core of
his apple and beginning to eat another one. "Each of these roads must
lead somewhere, or it wouldn't be here. So what does it matter?"

"I want to go home again," she said.

"Well, why don't you?" said he.

"I don't know which road to take."

"That is too bad," he said, shaking his shaggy head gravely. "I wish I
could help you; but I can't. I'm a stranger in these parts."

"Seems as if I were, too," she said, sitting down beside him. "It's
funny. A few minutes ago I was home, and I just came to show you the way
to Butterfield----"

"So I shouldn't make a mistake and go there----"

"And now I'm lost myself and don't now how to get home!"

"Have an apple," suggested the shaggy man, handing her one with pretty
red cheeks.

"I'm not hungry," said Dorothy, pushing it away.

"But you may be, to-morrow; then you'll be sorry you didn't eat the
apple," said he.

"If I am, I'll eat the apple then," promised Dorothy.

"Perhaps there won't be any apple then," he returned, beginning to eat
the red-cheeked one himself. "Dogs sometimes can find their way home
better than people," he went on; "perhaps your do