Crippy made no reply to the question; but a boy about Dan's size, who was looking wonderingly at the goose as he stood on his shortest leg in a mournful way spoke: "Wot is it yer don't know wot ter do?" "I don't know how to find my uncle Robert. Crippy an' me come down to see him, an' now we can't find his house." "Do you call him Crippy?" asked the boy as he nodded toward the goose. "Yas, he's Crippy Hardy. Mother was goin' to kill him for dinner to-morrer, so we come down here to get uncle Robert to go up an' see about it." "How far have you come?" "Seven miles." "Did you walk?" "Every step." "Well," said the boy as he looked at Crippy in a critical way, "it seems to me that's a mighty mean kind of a goose ter walk so far fur. He hain't handsome no ways, an' I think he'd look a good deal better on ther table roasted, than he does out here on ther street." Up to that moment Dan had been disposed to trust this boy who was so friendly; but when he spoke so slightingly of Crippy, he was disappointed in him. "You don't know Crippy, or you wouldn't say that," replied Dan gravely. "I would walk seventeen times as far if it would keep him from gettin' killed." "Well, I tell yer wot it is," and the boy spoke like one thoroughly conversant with geese and their ways, "he's got ter be a good deal better'n he looks ter 'mount to anything." "An' he is," replied Dan; and then he gave the stranger a full account of Crippy's sagacity and wisdom, with such success that when he had finished the goose evidently stood high in the city boy's estimation. "He's prob'ly a mighty nice kind of a goose," said the boy; "but it seems to me if I had a pet I'd want one that could sleep with me, an' you know you couldn't take this goose to bed." "I could if mother would let me, an' I don't see why she won't, for I know Crippy would just snuggle right down as good as anybody could." For some time the two discussed the question of pets in general, and Crippy in particular, then the city boy remembered his mother sent him on an errand which should have been done an hour before. Dan felt more lonely than ever after this new-made friend had gone, and, with Crippy in his arms, he started wearily out in search of uncle Robert, hardly knowing where he was going. In his bewilderment he had walked entirely around the same block four times, and an observant policeman asked him where he was going. Under the circumstances Dan did not require much urging to induce him to tell the man his story. "Do you know your uncle's name?" asked the officer. "Uncle Robert Hardy." "What is his business--I mean, what kind of work does he do?" "He keeps store." The officer led Dan to the nearest drug store, and there, after consulting the directory, told him there were several Robert Hardys mentioned, at the same time giving him a list of the names.