woodland were safer far for her.

"Let us cross the tracks and push on up that hill road a little," he
suggested. "We can't stay here, and they'll think we are tramps if they
catch us by the railroad."

"I guess that's what we are." Lou wrinkled her already upturned nose.
"But the country would be nicer again, if you ain't give out."

He assured her doggedly that he had not, and they crossed the tracks and
started up the steep hill road past the coal-dump and the few scattered
cottages to where the woodland closed in about them once more.

Jim picked up a stout stick and leaned heavily upon it as they plodded
along, while the twilight deepened to darkness and the stars appeared.
The girl's step lagged now, but she kept up in little spurts and set her
lips determinedly.

At length they came to another stream, a rushing mill-race this time,
with an old mill, moss-covered and fallen into decay beside it, and by
tacit consent they sank down on the worn step.

"I don't believe we can go any farther," Jim panted. "I guess this is as
good a place as any to camp for the night, and you can sleep in there."

He indicated the sagging door behind him, and Lou followed his gesture
with a reluctant eye. Jim noted the glance and, misunderstanding it,
added hastily:

"I don't believe there are any rats in there, but if you'll lend me your
matches I'll see."

"Rats!" she repeated in withering scorn. "There was plenty of them in
the insti--where I come from. I was just thinkin' maybe somebody else
was sleepin' there already."

She handed over the matches and Jim pushed open the door and entered,
feeling carefully for rotten boards in the decayed flooring. A prolonged
survey by the flickering light of the matches assured him that the
ancient, cobwebbed place was deserted, and he turned again to the door,
but its step was unoccupied and nowhere in the starlight could he
discern a flutter of that blue-and-white striped dress.

Could she have run away from him? At the thought a forlorn sense of
loneliness swept over him greater than he had known since he had started
upon his tramp. She was tired out; could he in some way have frightened
her, or had a mad spirit of adventure sent her on like a
will-o'-the-wisp into the night?

"Lou!" he called, and his voice echoed back. "Lou!"

All at once he noticed what he had not observed before--a single light
by the roadside in a clearing ahead. Perhaps she had gone there for more
secur