mean," she demanded brokenly, "that you can't see me, nor Happy
Pete, nor the trees, nor the birds, nor the squirrels, skipping
around?"

The boy bowed his head in assent, but brightened almost instantly.

"No, I can't see those things, but I've got lots of stars inside my
head. They're as bright as anything, only sometimes my tears put 'em
out."

Then, as if he feared he would lose his new friend, he felt for her
hand once more.

Jinnie returned the clinging pressure. For the second time in her life
her heart beat with that strange emotion--the protective instinct she
had felt for her father. She knew at that moment she loved this little
lad, with his wide-staring, unseeing eyes.

"I'm lost," said the boy, sighing deeply, "and I cried ever so long,
but nobody would come, and my stars all went out."

"Tell me about your stars," she said eagerly. "Are they sky stars?"

"I dunno what sky stars are. My stars shine in my head lovely and I
get warm. I'm cold all over and my heart hurts when they go out."

"Oh!" murmured Jinnie. "I wish they'd always shine."

"So do I." Then lifting an eager, sparkling face, he continued,
"They're shinin' now, 'cause I found you."

"Where're your folks?" asked Jinnie, swallowing hard.

"I dunno. I lost 'em a long time ago, and went to live with Mag. She
licked me every day, so--I just runned away--I've been here a awful
long time."

Jinnie considered a moment before explaining an idea that had slipped
into her mind as if it belonged there. She would take him home with
her.

"You're going to Lafe's house," she announced presently. "Happy Pete
and me and Peg live at Lafe Grandoken's home. Peggy makes bully
soup."

"And I'm so hungry," sighed the boy. "Where's the dog I heard
barking?"

He withdrew his hands, moving them outward, searching for something.
The girl tried to push Pete forward, but the dog only snuggled closer
to her.

"Petey, dear, I'm ashamed of you!" she chided lovingly. "Can't you see
the little fellow's trying to feel you?"

Then Happy Pete, as if he also were ashamed, came within reach of the
wavering hands, and crouched low, to be looked over with ten slender
finger tips.

"He's awful beautiful!" exclaimed the boy. "His hair's softer'n silk,
and his body's as warm as warm can be."

Jinnie contemplated Happy Pete's points of beauty. Never before had
she thought him anything more than a homely, lovable dog, with squat
little legs, and a pointed nose.