wouldn't have known
what to do with two baskets."

The old man snorted doubtfully and did not pursue the subject farther.
A little later, Dale discovered, to his surprise, that it was after four.
He had no idea the time had flown so. He would have to hustle to get
back to town before dark. Fortunately, the kitchen was cleared up, so
after stoking the fire he got into his sweater and coat. Then he picked
up the wide-brimmed felt hat and carefully rearranged the depressions
in its crown.

"Good-by, Mr. Grimstone," he said, glancing over to where the latter had
resumed his place by the stove. "I hope your arm won't be long coming
around."

The old man frowned at him from under the bushy brows. His head was a
little bent, and the long, bony fingers curved over the chair-arm. It
was precisely the attitude with which he had greeted the boy's arrival;
yet the latter was conscious of a subtle, intangible difference, felt
rather than perceived.

"Good-by," he answered curtly. That was all until Dale reached the door
and was turning the knob. Then, "Much obleeged," came jerkily from the
thin, straight lips.

"You needn't be," smiled the scout. "I--I've had a very good time."

It was not exactly the polite fiction that perhaps it seemed. That was
the odd part of it. As he went briskly down the lane the boy realized
with surprise that not once had he thought regretfully of the rare
turkey-dinner at home, or the fun with the fellows he had missed that
afternoon. One of the dogs, still licking his chops from the dish of
scraps that Dale had given them in the shed, trotted after him, and the
boy bent to pat his head without a touch of nervousness.

"Your bark's a lot worse than your bite, old fellow," he said aloud.

He straightened up and glanced back at the rambling, weather-beaten
house, whose roof lines seemed to merge into the cold gray of the sky,
and something deeper than pity stirred him at the thought of the old
man sitting alone there in the twilight.

"I shouldn't wonder if he was a good deal like his dogs," he murmured
as he turned away. "I'm sort of glad--I found it out."

* * * * *

It was quite dark before Dale reached home. The return trip had been
much harder to make than the one that morning. The holiday was over and
there was no spirit of adventure to buoy him up, no consciousness that
he was going to be of use to some one who needed him. Also, there was
ple