e
the picnic party came home. He could not walk so fast as he had come,
for he was tired and disheartened.

After a few miles' journey along the river bank he came to a bend where
he could see, farther ahead, the "Merry Maid," the poor little
houseboat, looking as deserted and lonely as David felt. Her decks were
cleared and her cabins locked until the return of the houseboat party.
She was being taken care of by a colored boy who lived not far away.

David felt a sudden rush of longing. The houseboat was filled with happy
memories of the girls. He was tired out and exhausted. He must rest
somewhere. The boy climbed aboard the houseboat. But he did not rest. He
walked feverishly up and down the deck.

An overwhelming impulse never to return to the Preston farm swept over
David. The love of wandering was in his blood. To-day he did not feel
fit to associate with the girls and boys who made up the two boat
parties. He ought never to have come with them. His lowly birth and lack
of training were against him. David knew that trouble, and perhaps
disgrace, might be in store for him if he went back to Mr. Preston's and
faced what was probably going to happen.

The poor boy wrestled with temptation. Mr. and Mrs. Preston had been
good to him. Miss Betsey meant to be kind, in spite of her fussiness,
and she had evidently told his new acquaintances nothing to his
discredit. Tom Curtis and Madge Morton trusted him. Yet could he face
the suspicion which he felt sure would fall upon him?

The sun was going down and the river was a flaming pathway of gold when
David turned his back on the houseboat and started for Mr. Preston's
home. His steps grew heavier and heavier as he walked. He was stiff,
sore and weary. The bandages were nearly off his hands and the flesh
smarted and burned from the exposure to the air. David was also
ravenously hungry. Against his heart the things wrapped in the old red
handkerchief cut like sharp tools.

Night and the stars came. David was still far from home. He decided that
it might be best for him to struggle on no farther. It would be easier
to explain in the morning that he had gone out for a walk and lost his
way; than to face his friends to-night with any explanation of his trip.

David remembered that the house that the colored boy, Sam, had described
as "ha'nted" lay midway between the houseboat and the farm. He could
sleep out on its old porch.

David filled his hat with Sam's "hoodoo" pe