Her son tried to lift his head.  “Yes, mother,” he said, “but you know I’ve sometimes thought how good it would seem to see you in the house, dressed for staying in instead of going out, and maybe sitting by the window sewing, or in the kitchen paring apples, or lifting the lid from a pot and letting the steam out in a cloud . . .”

“A survival of the male superstition that Woman was born into perpetual bondage,” was the crisp response.

It seemed to Everychild that some one ought to change the subject.  He tried.  “It’s really very interesting, Mother Hubbard,” he said; “and—­and that’s a very nice dog you’ve got!”

“Do you think so?  Take him away with you—­do!  I see nothing nice about him.”

By this time her son could endure no more.  “He’s going to take him away, mother,” he said.  “And he’s going to take me, too.  I just came to tell you good-by.”

For the first time the old lady was strangely quiet.  She gasped an instant and then she cried out angrily, “Good-by?  And where are you going?”

“I’m going with Everychild.  We’re going to find the truth.”

His mother turned aside.  “The boy is mad!” she said.  Then facing him again she demanded, “Do you know what the truth is?  I’ll tell you.  It’s this:  When you get hungry and come back home, standing with one foot on top of the other outside my door, you’ll find the door shut!”

There was an impressive silence for a moment, and then the Masked Lady remarked tranquilly, “If he finds the truth, no door will ever be closed to him again.”

Then Tom, turning to Everychild, said—­“Come, we’ll go.”

They left the house together.  The little dog bounded after them.  The door swung to.

The old lady, clearly alarmed, went to the door as if she would open it and cry out.  But pride prevented her from doing so.  She stood with one hand on the wall, listening.  And at last she did open the door; but not a living creature was in sight.

CHAPTER XIV

MR. LITERAL’S WARNING

Everychild was in a high state of excitement as he and Tom made their way back to where the other members of the band awaited them.

He had scarcely dared to hope that Tom would be able to get away from his mother so easily.  She had seemed really terrible.  But now there was little danger of her overtaking them and making her son go back.

He was delighted that there was to be a new member of the band; while the thought of having a dog along with them seemed almost too good to be true.  It would be much more interesting, having a dog with them.  He could not know, of course, what exciting events lay in wait for him, and it seemed to him that having the dog might be the most wonderful part of the entire journey.

He was just thinking that the band was now large enough, even if no other children appeared to go with them, when something occurred to mar his perfect happiness.