It is plain enough, from the tone of this conversation, that the boys had not started out with that friendly feeling, which two travellers ought to have for each other, who are intending to take a long journey in company. Fred saw it would not do for Willy to be so cross in the very beginning. He had had hard work to get the boy's consent to go, and now, for fear he might turn back, he suddenly became very pleasant. "Look here, Billy; you can beat me running; I own up to that; but we've got to keep together, you know. Don't you get ahead of me--now will you?" "I'll try not to," replied Willy, somewhat softened; "but you do get out of breath as easy as a chicken." "Most time to begin to run?" said Fred, after they had trudged on for some time at a moderate pace. "No; there's a man coming this way," replied the sharper-eyed Willy. "O, yes; I see him now. Who suppose it is?" "Why, Dr. Potter, of course. Don't you know him by his _shappo brar_?" The _chapeau bras_ was a three-cornered hat, the like of which you and I have never seen, except in very old pictures. As Dr. Potter met the boys, he shook his ivory-headed cane, and said, playfully, "Good evening, my little men." "Good evening, sir." But it was certainly a bad evening inside their hearts, sulky and dark. "What if Dr. Potter should tell where he met us?" exclaimed Fred. "Lucky 'twasn't Dr. Hilton.--There, he's out of the way; now let's run." They were on the road to Cross Lots, a town about five miles from Perseverance. They had not as yet marked out their course very clearly, but thought after they should reach Cross Lots it would be time enough to decide what to do next. They ran with all their might, but did not make the speed they desired, for they jumped behind the fences whenever they heard a wagon coming, and were obliged to stop often, besides, for Freddy to take breath. By the time they reached Cross Lots--a thriving little town with a saw-mill--it was pretty late; and if it had not been for the bright light of the moon and stars, they might have been a little disheartened. They took a seat on a stump near the saw-mill, and prepared to talk over the situation. A lonesome feeling had suddenly come upon them, which caused them to gaze wistfully upon the "happy autumn fields" and the far-off sky. "Stars look kind o' shiny--don't they?" said Fred, heaving a sigh. Willy forced a gay tone. "What s'pose makes 'em keep up such a winking? Like rows of pins, you know,--gold pins; much as a million of 'em, and somebody sticking 'em into a great blue cushion up there, and keeps a-sticking 'em in, but out they come again." "I never heard of such a silly idea in my life," sneered Fred. "Pins!--H'm!" "Why, can't you tell when a fellow's in fun, Fred Chase? Thought I meant real pins--did you? The stars are worlds, and I guess I know it as well as you do."