Rod gave hardly a thought to Tom Dunker’s action in frightening him.  It was what he had said about the Poor House, and his father and mother which worried him.  “What did he mean?” he asked himself over and over again.  Why did he say that I should go to the Poor House instead of living with decent people, and that I wouldn’t own my parents if I knew them?  His brain grew hot as he brooded over these words.  Other children had their fathers and mothers with them, and why was it that he had never seen his, and knew nothing about them?  Mrs. Royal had told him that his mother was living, and several times she had read her letters to him.  But she was a vague person, one he had never seen, and in whom he had no special interest.  The Royals, and the people he knew in Hillcrest were of more importance to him than his own mother.  But now a desire entered his soul to know something about his parents.  Were they bad people? he asked himself.  Why did they not come to see him?  Were they ashamed to do so? he wondered, and was that what Tom meant?

As noon approached, Rod began to feel hungry.  He had eaten very little breakfast, as he had been too much interested in a new family of kittens which had been discovered in the barn.  The other scholars who had come some distance would have their dinner, and he could not bear the thought of seeing them eating when he was so hungry.  He, therefore, planned to spend the hour by himself down by the river.

As the children flocked out of school, Rod moved with them.  But the teacher stopped him, and handed to him a small parcel, neatly tied.

“What’s that?” Rod asked, much surprised.

“I do not know,” was the reply.  “Some one left it here this morning.”

Then Rod remembered that he had heard a knock, and the teacher had gone to the door, returning shortly with something in her hand.  He had not seen the visitor, and so had soon forgotten all about the incident.

Going back to his scat, he untied the string, and unwrapped the brown paper.  Then great was his surprise to find a dainty lunch lying within.  There were several slices of choice home-made bread, two pieces of cake, a large wedge of pumpkin-pie, and a fine rosy apple.

For a few moments Rod sat staring at the feast before him.  Who could have sent it? he wondered, Then all at once he remembered.  It was the apple which solved the problem, and he knew that there was only one tree in the neighbourhood which produced such fruit as that.  He had often seen the tree from the road, but had never dared to venture near, as it was too close to Captain Josh’s house.  He knew now where the lunch had come from, and it made him so excited that for awhile he forgot to eat as he sat there thinking it all over.

When Rod went home from school, Mrs. Royal noticed the crimson mark upon his cheek where the whip had struck him.  She asked no questions, however, for she wanted Rod to tell of his own free will how it happened.  It was after he was in bed, that the boy looked up inquiringly into Mrs. Royal’s face, as she stood by his side before bidding him good-night.