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Little Red Riding-Hood undressed, and went to the bedside, and was very much astonished to see how different her grandmother looked to what she did when she was up and dressed. With a last wave of the hand, the boys started on their long hike. After having gone deep into the pool, Bob came to the surface, his lungs bursting. One side of his body was numb from the impact of his fall on the surface of the water. Aside from this, he was little the worse for his experience..
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A moment or so later the Indian got up and motioned to Bob that it would be safe to follow. They did not take the path but threaded their way amongst the underbrush, the sand deadening their footsteps. So cleverly did the Indian pick his way that hardly a sound was made by their coming in contact with the bushes. Bob had difficulty in keeping up with his guide, yet he did his best and when they reached the crest of the hill he was but a few steps behind. Katrina wanted everything done just so; the garden gate must not only be shut but latched; he must walk in the middle of the path, and he must always use the kitchen door. If he went to the other door, he was sure to hear “Dear, dear! How grand he is today! He must come in at the front door and make some one leave her work to let him in.” No, indeed. He would not go all that way around by King Street any more. Their old apples could hang and hang there forever, for all he cared. Hardly daring to breathe, he watched and hoped for a flame to spring from the wood.If it came, he had won; if not, his losing was the end of the fight. There would be no other way out. “If you find that the work is not as much fun as you expected, will you come back and tell me so? You won’t stick it out just as a matter of pride?”.
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