Early next morning they were up and on their way. It was the second morning since Paul's departure. Already a sense of freedom gave his spirits unwonted elasticity, and encouraged him to hope for the best. Had his knowledge of the future been greater, his confidence might have been less. But would he have been any happier? So many miles separated him from his late home, that he supposed himself quite safe from detection. A slight circumstance warned him that he must still be watchful and cautious. As they were jogging easily along, they heard the noise of wheels at a little distance. Paul looked up. To his great alarms he recognized in the driver of the approaching vehicle, one of the selectmen of Wrenville. “What's the matter?” asked his companion, noticing his sudden look of apprehension. Paul quickly communicated the ground of his alarm. “And you are afraid he will want to carry you back, are you?” “Yes.” “Not a bit of it. We'll circumvent the old fellow, unless he's sharper than I think he is. You've only got to do as I tell you.” To this Paul quickly agreed. The selectman was already within a hundred rods. He had not yet apparently noticed the pedler's cart, so that this was in our hero's favor. Mr. Stubbs had already arranged his plan of operations. “This is what you are to do, Paul,” said he, quickly. “Cock your hat on the side of your head, considerably forward, so that he can't see much of your face. Then here's a cigar to stick in your mouth. You can make believe that you are smoking. If you are the sort of boy I reckon you are, he'll never think it's you.” Paul instantly adopted this suggestion. Slipping his hat to one side in the jaunty manner characteristic of young America, he began to puff very gravely at a cigar the pedler handed him, frequently taking it from his mouth, as he had seen older persons do, to knock away the ashes. Nothwithstanding his alarm, his love of fun made him enjoy this little stratagem, in which he bore his part successfully. The selectman eyed him intently. Paul began to tremble from fear of discovery, but his apprehensions were speedily dissipated by a remark of the new-comer, “My boy, you are forming a very bad habit.” Paul did not dare to answer lest his voice should betray him. To his relief, the pedler spoke---- “Just what I tell him, sir, but I suppose he thinks he must do as his father does.” By this time the vehicles had passed each other, and the immediate peril was over. “Now, Paul,” said his companion, laughing, “I'll trouble you for that cigar, if you have done with it. The old gentleman's advice was good. If I'd never learned to smoke, I wouldn't begin now.” Our hero was glad to take the cigar from his mouth. The brief time he had held it was sufficient to make him slightly dizzy. XIII. PAUL REACHES THE CITY. Towards evening they drew up before a small house with a neat yard in front.