leave
his face.

"What are we to do?" the Doctor asked, and by and by he added,
"If you see a policeman I hope you will tell him you are not lost
and that you did not think of making so much trouble when you ran
away. But what about Mother? Maybe she, too, has been looking
everywhere for you."

The Doctor sat down and wiped his face, and then got up and began
to walk about once more. You could see that he was very much
distressed, but not more distressed than David. In sad perplexity
they stared at each other. After everything had grown very still
in the room, the little boy suddenly exclaimed in an awed
voice:--

"Let's go home!"

"Well said!" the Doctor called out, and David flew for his hat;
they started for the stairs, the little boy clinging desperately
to the man's hand.

"Wait!" the Doctor exclaimed. They had stopped abruptly before
reaching the steps. "Why don't we telephone? If we do that, it
won't keep Mother waiting so long."

It was now that David's eyes began to gleam. He clapped his
hands; he laughed and he danced. He was going to put Mother's
heart at rest about him. She would not be troubled any more. She
would know he was safe.

After the message had gone, it was easy to see in David's face
that he was glad he had not run away very far. Fav-ver Doctor had
not blamed him, but Fav-ver Doctor had made him understand how
much trouble it makes when little boys run away.

"That's what it was all about," said David.

"You mean, I suppose--"

"Fairies don't like it if I run off. That's why they changed
things around so. I hardly knew the house; it was fixed so
queer."

"Yes," the Doctor assented, "it looked shocking queer. How did
you ever know the place?"

"They didn't change the fence much," said David, and the man now
recognized the one point of similitude between that desolate home
down in Duck Town and the House of Joy where David lived.

So grim was the contrast that the Doctor winked uneasily, for it
brought him back to a problem he had thought settled. He had
really meant to take a vacation. He was so tired; no one knew
quite, how very tired he was, and he had thought that for a brief
while he was justified in leaving the fight to some one else. He
only wanted a week or so--a little chance to live, to play with
this little boy, and perhaps be happy! Yet, after all, dared he
leave those people to other hands when they were counting so on
him, and had so little else to count upon? Wh