An hour before Posey would hardly have believed that she could ever again feel like laughing. But there was something so infectious in the cheery good humor, the ready self-confidence, and above all the hearty sympathy of her new friend, that she laughed gayly at his merry tone and twinkling eyes, as, swinging around the corner of the bridge, he jumped down, and soon the stout bay horse and red cart came into view at the opposite end of the bridge—such a cart as she had more than once seen that summer, with great sacks of rags piled high on its top, and a fringe of old rubber boots dangling around the bottom. While Ben was making sure that everything was in good order and securely fastened before he started, Posey ran down to the clear water and wetting her handkerchief washed her face and hands, straightened her hat and cape, and made herself look as tidy as she could. Her spirits had even risen so high that sitting down on the grassy bank she ventured into her lunch, and fancying that she saw Ben give another glance at the pie, as a slight expression of her overflowing gratitude she held it out to him, urging, “Do take it. I know it’s good, for Mrs. Hagood always makes such nice pumpkin pies.” Ben looked at the tempting delicacy with a true boy’s appetite. “I’ll tell you what I will do,” drawing out his pocketknife, “I’ll cut it in two and eat one half if you will the other. No, I sha’n’t take the whole of it. Besides, I’ve read of people breaking bread together as a pledge of friendship; well, we’ll break this pie together as our pledge.” “You see,” he continued as he wiped away the last flaky crumb, “the potatoes this morning were warmed over, the pork was warmed over, the coffee was warmed over, and it was a sort of a warmed-over breakfast generally. But then I oughtn’t to complain, for Billy and I had our lodging and breakfast, and I only had to give a tin dipper, a quart basin, and two pie tins for it all. That’s why I stop at houses instead of hotels when I can, the women, mostly, will take tinware for pay, and as there’s a profit on it, why, that makes my expenses that much the less for Mr. Bruce.” As he helped Posey to the high seat, and mounting beside her gathered up the lines and chirruped to the horse, she gave a start. “Why, you are going back the way I came.” “Only a little way. The road bends so you didn’t notice where the one you were on came into this, but I’ll show you the place; Horsham is south, and I’m going west; then after a little I shall turn north, for I’ve quite a circuit to make to-day.” CHAPTER IX TWO HAPPY TRAVELERS How wonderfully the face of all the outer world changes with our feelings.