His heart beat with apprehension.  Perhaps it was some officer of the institution in search of him.  At any rate it was some one who had come from the vicinity of the Reform School, and who had probably heard of his escape.  As it came nearer, he heard the jingling of bells; it was the baker.  How he longed for a loaf of his bread, or some of the precious ginger-bread he carried in his cart!  Hunger tempted him to run the risk of exposure.  He had money; he could buy cakes and bread; and perhaps the baker had a kind heart, and would befriend him in his distress.  The wagon was close at hand.

“Now or never,” thought he; but this time it was not now.  The risk was too great.  If he failed now, two years of captivity were before him; and as for the hunger, he could grin and bear it for a while.

“Now or never;” but this time it was escape now or never; and he permitted the baker to pass without hailing him.

He waited half an hour, and then determined to take the road till he had crossed the creek.  The danger was great, but the pangs of hunger urged him on.  He was sure there were berries in the pasture, and with a timid step, carefully watching before and behind to insure himself against surprise, he crossed the bridge.  But then a new difficulty presented itself.  There was a house within ten rods of the bridge, which he must pass, and to do so would expose him to the most imminent peril.  He was on the point of retreating, when a man came out of the house, and approached him.  What should he do?  It was a trying moment.  If he ran, the act would expose him to suspicion.  If he went forward, the man might have already received a description of him, and arrest him.

He chose the latter course.  The instinct of his being was to do every thing in a straightforward manner, and this probably prompted his decision.

“Good morning, sir,” said he boldly to the man.

“Good morning.  Where are you travelling?” This was a hard question.  He did not know where he was travelling; besides, even in his present difficult position, he could not readily resort to a lie.

“Down here a piece,” he replied.

“Travelled far to-day?”

“Not far.  Good morning, sir;” and Bobby resumed his walk.

“I say, boy, suppose you tell me where you are going;” and the man came close to him, and deliberately surveyed him from head to foot.

“I can hardly tell you,” replied Bobby, summoning courage for the occasion.

“Well, I suppose not,” added the man, with a meaning smile.

Bobby felt his strength desert him as he realized that he was suspected of being a runaway from the Reform School.  That smile on the man’s face was the knell of hope; and for a moment he felt a flood of misery roll over his soul.  But the natural elasticity of his spirits soon came to his relief, and he resolved not to give up the ship, even if he had to fight for it.