My next reflection was how I should act--how get over the difficulty about the passage-money, and also escape from the guardianship of my friend "John," the driver of the cart. The former would appear the greater dilemma, though in reality it was no such thing; at least, so I thought at the time. My reasons for thinking so were these: I had often heard of boys running away to sea--of their being accepted on board ships, and allowed to become boy-sailors and afterwards able seamen. I was under the impression that there was not much difficulty about the matter, and that almost any boy who was big enough and smart enough would be taken aboard, if he was but willing to work for it. My only apprehension at the time was about my own bigness, or rather "littleness," for I knew that I was still but a very small shaver-- smaller even than my age would indicate--though I had a well-knit frame, and was tolerably tight and tough. I had some doubt, however, about my size, for I was often "twitted" with being such a very little fellow. I was fearful, therefore, that this might be an obstacle to my being taken as a boy-sailor; for I had really made up my mind to offer myself as such on board the _Inca_. With regard to "John," my apprehensions were very great. On the first impulse, I thought of no other plan than to give him the slip, and leave him to go home without me. After a little reflection, I perceived that that course would never do. John would be back in the morning with half-a-dozen of his kind--and perhaps my uncle himself--in quest of me. They would most likely arrive before the ship should sail, for vessels rarely take their departure at an early hour in the morning. The bellman would raise the hue and cry. The whole town would be traversed, and perhaps the ship searched, where, of course, I should be found, delivered up, carried home, and, beyond doubt, severely whipped; for I knew my uncle's disposition well enough to believe that that would most certainly be the wind-up of the adventure. No, no, it would never do to let John and his cart go home without me. A little reflection convinced me of this, and at the same time helped me to resolve upon a better plan. The new resolve was to go back along with my guardian John, and then take my departure from home itself. Without imparting aught of my design, or making John in any way my confidant, I mounted into the cart along with him, and rode back to the village. I reached home as quietly, and apparently as little concerned about anything that was passing in my mind, as when I left it in the morning. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. RUNNING AWAY.