“Randy looked nice in anything,” said Hi, “and I’ll like ter see her, but the best of it is, I ain’t er goin’ ter school.  I hate school, anyway.”

“I like school when my Randy’s in it, but I don’t like anything where my Randy isn’t,” said Prue, stoutly, “and now we’re going to see her.”

As she danced along, her hand tightly clasping that of her companion, she hummed merrily, and Hi accompanied her with a discordant whistle, cheerfully unaware that he was quite off the key.

“Does it take long to get to Boston?” asked Prue, abruptly.

“No, I guess not,” said Hi, “but it’s a little longer’n I thought to the deepot.”

“Don’t you know the way?” she asked when upon reaching a fork in the road Hi stopped and stared about him as if puzzled as to which to choose.

“Oh, yes, I know the way to the deepot,” said Hi, “only I was a thinkin’ which was the nearest way.  Last time I went there with Uncle Joshua he said, ’We’ll go this way ‘cause it’s a short cut,’ an’ I guess this is it, Prue, so come along.”

And away they went down the road which led directly away from the Centre.  Naughty little Hi was far from sure that they were walking in the right direction, but he knew that they were not going toward school, and that in itself was delightful, and a glance at Prue’s smiling face assured him that he was making her happy, so on they trudged, singing and whistling as before.

The sun was high overhead, and the light breeze blew the curls about Prue’s little face, until Hi looking at her said,

“You’re the nicest girl I know Prue; will ye give me some er your lunch, if I’ll give you half er my apple?”

“Oh, yes,” assented Prue, “I’m getting hungry too.  Here, let’s divide this gingerbread first.”

Upon the low stone wall they perched, and a pretty picture they made, sharing their lunch and throwing the crumbs to the sparrows that twittered in the dusty road.

“We’ve been walking so long, we must be most to the deepot, Hi,” said Prue.

“I guess so,” the small boy answered, “so now we’ve finished the lunch, we’ll just start along.  Gim me yer hand, Prue; I’m a big boy, ’n I’m takin’ care er you.”

“Yes, you’re taking care of me real good,” Prue answered sweetly, “and I love you fer taking me to my Randy, but Hi,” she continued, “I’ll have to sit down a minute, my feets are so tired.”

“Oh, there’s time ‘nough,” said Hi.  “We’ll rest a while, an’ then, after we’ve walked a little ways, fust thing you’ll see’ll be the deepot.  Then when we git inter the cars, we shall sit on the soft seat and jest rest ’til we get ter Randy’s.”

“Well, then, let’s hurry,” said Prue, “I’m some rested now, and if we run we’ll get there all the sooner.”

But Prue was more weary than she knew, and her little legs refused to run, so, settling into a jog trot the two tired children pushed onward, each step carrying them farther from the depot and at the same time farther from home.