at sight of the dear little legs in
their black stockings and knee breeches, and leaving his buggy by the side
of the road, he walked rapidly forward and caught up with the boys, who
turned and faced him as he approached. Displeased as he was, Mr. Ford could
hardly resist a hearty laugh at the comical appearance of the runaways.
Chips carried the big, heavy ham, and Johnnie was keeping firm hold of a
hen, who stretched her neck and looked very uncomfortable in her quarters
under his arm.

"Why, father!" exclaimed Johnnie, recovering from a short tussle with the
poor hen, "how funny that you should be here."

"No stranger than that you should be here, I think. Where, if I have any
right to ask, are you going?"

"To Lake Michigan," replied Johnnie composedly. "Oh, I do wish this old hen
would keep still!"

"Then you have fifty miles before you," said Mr. Lord.

"Yes, sir," replied Johnnie, "but it would have been a thousand miles to
the ocean, you know."

"Ha, ha, ha!" roared Mr. Ford, mystified, but unable to control himself any
longer at sight of Johnnie and the hen, and patient-faced Chips clutching
the ham.

"I am glad you don't mind, father," said Johnnie. "I thought it would be so
nice for you and mother and Mrs. Wood not to have Chips and me to worry
about any more."

"It was very thoughtful of you," replied Mr. Ford, remembering the anxious
faces at home. "And what are you going to do at Lake Michigan?"

"Take a boat and go away and get wrecked on a desert island, like Robinson
Crusoe," responded Johnnie glibly, at the same time hitching the hen up
higher under his arm.

"And how about Chips?"

"Oh, I'm Man Friday," chirped Chips, his poor little face quite black
enough for the character.

"I am so sorry we had to tell you so soon," said Johnnie. "We were keeping
it a secret until we got to the lake; then we were going to send you a
letter."

Mr. Ford looked gravely into his son's grimy face. It was an honest face,
and Johnnie had always been a truthful boy, and just now seemed only
troubled by the restless behavior of his hen; so the father rightly
concluded that the blue and gold book had captivated him into the belief
that what he and Chips were doing was admirable and heroic.

"What part is the hen going to play?" asked the gentleman. "Is she going to
help stock your island?"

"Oh, no, but we couldn't get along without her, because she's going to lay
eggs along the way."

"Lay eggs?"