to cause alarm in the mind of one much older than the
boy. He said to himself that he would keep on in the direction he was
then travelling for fifteen minutes; and as he had no means of computing
the time he sat down on a log, took out the bit of pencil with which he
had written the letter to Ella, and multiplied sixty by fifteen. He knew
that there were sixty seconds to the minute, and that he could
ordinarily count one to each second; therefore, when he learned that
there were nine hundred seconds in fifteen minutes, he resolved to walk
as nearly straight ahead as possible until he should have counted that
number.

He walked on, counting as regularly as he could, and thought to himself
that he never before realized how long fifteen minutes were. It really
seemed to him that an hour had passed before he finished counting, and
then when he stopped there were no more signs that he was near a
clearing than there had been before he started.

"Ah, Mr. Stubbs, we're lost! we're lost!" he cried, as he laid his cheek
on the monkey's head and gave way to the lonesome grief that came over
him. "What shall we do? Perhaps we won't ever find our way out, but will
die here, an' then Uncle Dan'l won't ever know how sorry I was that I
run away."

Then Toby lay right down on the ground and cried so hard that the monkey
acted as if it were frightened, and tried to turn the boy's face over,
and finally leaned down and licked Toby's ear.

This little act, which seemed so much like a kiss, caused Toby to feel
no small amount of comfort, and he sat up again, took the monkey in his
arms, and began seriously to discuss some definite plan of action.

"It won't do to keep on the way we've been goin', Mr. Stubbs," said
Toby, as he looked full in his pet's face--and the old monkey sat as
still and looked as grave as it was possible for him to look and
sit--"for we must be goin' into the woods deeper. Let's start off this
way"--and Toby pointed at right angles with the course they had been
pursuing--"an' keep right on that way till we come to something, or till
we drop right down an' die."

It is fair to presume that the old monkey agreed to Toby's plan; for
although he said nothing in favor of it he certainly made no objections
to it, which to Toby was the same as if his companion had assented to it
in the plainest English.

Both the bundles and the monkey were rather a heavy load for a small boy
like Toby to carry; but he clung manfully