He wrinkled up his narrow forehead in a heavy frown, and Jim frowned back as he tried to see things the way the boy was seeing them. He thought the boy very clever, and he knew that what he said was true about the difference between people like his father and mother, and the people like Sisson and his companions. His mind seemed to go on sudden little journeys, and to show him pictures of the wandering life Hi described, and of his own safe home life. Then the faces and the language of those men and women with the show helped him to understand. He began to feel very sorry for Hi. “I know a man—Rath Rutherford his name is—who’s going around the mountain getting folks to go down and work in the cotton mills at Lee,” he said after a time. “He’d take me if my folks would let me go, and I reckon he’d take you if you wanted.” “I never could get away from my uncle—unless I ran away.” “And hid,” suggested Jim. “There ain’t nobody to stand by me.” “Yes there is too! I’ll stand by you—sure I will.” “I ran away once and got caught and lambasted for it.” “You wouldn’t get caught if I hid you,” declared Jim. “Besides, you and me could fight.” They fell to planning what they would do if they were hidden and the people came to get them, and they had to fight; or what would happen if they came across a wildcat or a rattlesnake. They got very well acquainted, and were almost ready to start off together to “take care of themselves,” as Hi put it, when a horn was blown from somewhere far above their heads. “That’s for me,” cried Jim. “Come, we must go,” and forgetting all about his plan for running away, he began scrambling up the rocks toward home. He was really astonished to find that the afternoon had passed and that the people were cooking supper within and without the house, and he learned that Elder Mills had preached the funeral sermon for “poor Mis’ Knox” and that there was a fresh mound of earth beside Molly’s little grave. A wonderful golden light lay across the higher reaches of the mountains, and below, the valley rested in deep purple shadow. The martins were snug in their hanging gourds in the crosstrees, and Jim could hear them making little sleepy noises. It seemed so sweet there at home that he couldn’t bear to think of Hi going on, and when he heard the boy’s uncle swearing at him because he had left some chores undone, Jim hated Sisson. He thought what fun he and Hi could have if they were allowed to prowl about and cook their supper together. Jim knew how to build a fire, and how to put it out. His father had taught him to take care of the woods and to keep them from catching fire. Now he came to think of it, he knew a great many things that he would like to teach Hi. But he had to go in the house to his supper, and he saw Hi being jerked along roughly by the arm and heard the angry words his uncle said to him.