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“Meet Feather-in-the-Wind by rock crusher to-night,” he whispered swiftly, but cautiously. “Oh, don’t be so pessimistic,” said Bob. “I bet we’ll come through alive and kicking. Shall we start in the morning?” What would Father think if he knew that they had taken money for rowing a person ashore? Oh, dear! That had been wrong then. Johnny Blossom sat doubled together, scowling fiercely, as was his habit when he was worried about anything. That miserable five cents—why had they taken it?.
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The organ now swelled in mournful harmony; and the voices of the assembly chanted in choral strain, a low and solemn requiem to the spirit of the departed. "It is your grand-daughter, Little Red Riding-Hood," answered the Wolf, imitating the child's voice. "I have brought a cake and a little jar of butter, which my mother has sent you." The good grandmother, who was ill in bed, called out, "Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up." The Wolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened. He leaped on to the poor old woman, and ate her up in less than no time, for he had been three days without food. He then shut the door again, and laid himself down in the grandmother's bed, to wait for Little Red Riding-Hood. Presently she came and knocked at the door: tap, tap. Satisfied, Bob let the matter rest. So far the journey, with the exception of the one upset, had proved rather tame going and both boys were a little surprised that former explorers had found it impossible to make the passage. The boy from the East rather doubted that they would meet any worse obstacles than they had already. But Jerry was more skeptical. When Bob ventured that he thought the trip was a cinch, Jerry agreed, with a reservation. At the almshouse all the old women gathered in the hall and stared at Johnny Blossom. He looked very little standing among them. Indeed they would come, all of them, he might be sure of that..
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