"I don't know." Her voice was worried. "He's not a bit like himself. He
is always away, for one thing. And he hardly eats at all."

"He looks well enough nourished!"

"And he comes home covered with mud. I have never seen his clothes in
such condition. And last night, when he was bathing, I went into the
bathroom. He is covered with scratches."

"Now see here, mother," the hunter's father protested, "you're the
parent of a son, a perfectly hardy, healthy, and normal youngster, with
an imagination. Probably he's hunting Indians. I saw him in the Park
yesterday with his air-rifle. Any how, just stop worrying and let him
alone. A scratch or two won't hurt him. And as to his not eating,--well,
if he's not eating at home he's getting food somewhere, I'll bet you a
hat."

So Bobby was undisturbed, save that the governess protested that he
heard nothing she told him, and was absent-minded at his lessons. But
as she was always protesting about something, no one paid any attention.
Bobby drew ahead on his pocket allowance without question, and as his
birthday was not far off, asked for "the dollar to grow on" in advance.
He always received a dollar for each year, which went into the bank, and
a dollar to grow on, which was his own to spend.

With the dollar he made a number of purchases candles and candlestick, a
toy pistol and caps, one of the masks for the Carnival, now displayed in
all the windows, a kitchen-knife, wooden plates, and a piece of bacon.

Now and then he appeared at the Scenic Railway, abstracted and viewing
with a calculating eye the furnishings of the engine-room and workshop.
From there disappeared a broken chair, a piece of old carpet, discarded
from a car, and a large padlock, but the latter he asked for and
obtained.

His occasional visits to the Railway, however, found him in old
Adelbert's shack. He filled his pockets with charcoal from the pail
beside the stove, and made cautious inquiries as to methods of cooking
potatoes. But the pall of old Adelbert's gloom penetrated at last even
through the boy's abstraction.

"I hope your daughter is not worse," he said politely, during one of his
visits to the ticket-booth.

"She is well. She recovers strength rapidly."

"And the new uniform--does it fit, you?"

"I do not know," said old Adelbert grimly. "I have not seen it
recently."

"On the day of the procession we are all going to watch for you. I'll
tell you where we twill be, so you can lo