A whole hour in which to decide it, for Tip meant to do the work any way. Up and down the streets, stopping at this house and that with his parcels, back again to the market for more, all the time in a whirl of thought. The question was almost decided when the two green tickets were placed in his hand; it closed over them eagerly. He hurried towards home. Towards home led him past the brick hotel. In the bar-room sat some of the circus men; he knew them by their heavy beards, which almost covered their faces; knew them also because he knew every man in town, just who were strangers and who were not. Well, these circus men were very busy drinking brandy and playing cards. Tip stopped and looked in at them; and, ignorant boy as he was, the thought that good, respectable people would go to see and hear such men as these, seemed very strange. It couldn't be right, could it? How was it? A great many nice people must have blundered terribly if it were wrong; and, on the other hand, if it were not wrong, how did the minister happen to be so afraid of these things? Why did he himself have so many queer feelings about the matter? What a trouble he was in! If only he could find somebody or something that would decide it for him! Long before this he had walked away from the hotel; now he had crossed the bridge, gone around behind the mill, and was very near his seat under the elm. Down he sat when he came to it, still holding fast the two green tickets, but with the other hand diving down in his pocket for the little Bible. That was getting to be a habit with him, to hunt for this lamp of his whenever he was in darkness. He turned the leaves now with a perplexed face. If he only knew where to turn for help! "Let me see," he said. "Where was that verse that I learned for the Sunday school concert? I liked the sound of that; it was somewhere in this book full of short, queer verses. I can find it; yes, I see it. 'For the Lord shall be thy confidence, and shall keep thy foot from being taken.'" It didn't seem to help him; he shook his head slowly, still glancing on over the verses, until suddenly his listless look vanished, and he read aloud;--"Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away." "That means them," said Tip, "and me. They're wicked men, that's certain: they were drinking and gambling,--swearing too, I guess; and this verse reads about them just as plain as day. It says, 'Don't go near them,'--says it over and over again; and I'll mind it, I will. I'll take these tickets right back to Mr. Dewey, so they won't be here to put me in mind of going." No sooner said than done; he turned around and fairly galloped up the hill, around the corner, and landed nearly breathless at the market. "Here, Mr. Dewey," he said promptly, "I've brought back your tickets; I don't want 'em this time."