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They could not talk of this so secretly, but that they were overheard by Little Thumbling, who reckoned upon being able to get out of the difficulty by the same means as the first time; but though he got up very early to collect the little pebbles, he did not succeed in his object, for he found the house door double locked. He was at his wit's end what to do, when his mother having given each of them a piece of bread for their breakfast, it occurred to him that he might make the bread take the place of the pebbles, by strewing crumbs along the path as they went, and so he put his piece in his pocket. The father and mother led them into the thickest and darkest part of the forest, and as soon as they had done so, they turned into a bypath, and left them there. Little Thumbling did not trouble himself much, for he believed he could easily find his way back by help of the crumbs which he had scattered wherever he had passed; but he was greatly surprised to find not a single crumb left—the birds had come and picked them all up. The poor children were now, indeed, in great distress; the further they wandered, the deeper they plunged into the forest. Night came on, and a great wind arose, which filled them with terror. They fancied they heard nothing on every side but the howling of wolves, running towards them to devour them. They scarcely dared to speak or look behind them. Then there came a heavy rain, which drenched them to the skin; they slipped at every step, tumbling into the mud, out of which they scrambled covered with dirt, not knowing what to do with their hands. Little Thumbling climbed up a tree to try if he could see anything from the top of it. Having looked about on all sides, he saw a little light, like that of a candle, but it was a long way off, on the other side of the forest. He came down again, and when he had reached the ground, he could no longer see the light. He was in despair at this, but having walked on with his brothers for some time in the direction of the light, he caught sight of it again as they emerged from the forest.,Friend, art afraid?,Wolves are many, and vary in kind;,Therefore, when he saw in the distance a figure seated on a rock fishing, it came as a great surprise. He pointed the canoe’s nose toward the fisherman. When he got close he saw that it was a boy of perhaps his own age.,The evening now closed in; and as they were doubtful of the road, and found it would be impossible to reach Palini that night, they took the way to a village, which they perceived at the extremity of the valley.,“Sure Mike!” said the other boy. “I’m with you.” And he stepped gingerly into the canoe. The newcomer did not seem particularly familiar with the easily capsized craft, yet Bob noted with satisfaction that he had sense enough to keep very quiet once he was aboard.,Johnny Blossom stood and stared. For his part he would rather have his own mug at home with “For a Good Boy” upon it than all these fine antiques that so many old mouths had drunk from!,He found an old pill box, laid the Mozambique stamp carefully in it, and ran straightway to King Street.,True as you live, there were no more apples on the tree! It was remarkable how little time it had taken to strip it. And on the steps lay only eight apples, and two of them were bruised! What would Aunt Grenertsen say at getting so few? Well, he must take them in to her.,“There! Now you can see how stupid they are,” interrupted Johnny Blossom.,“And instead of taking the examinations for Harvard and then going fishing with me, you want to go out West and work on an engineering corps all summer. After that, what?”,“What’s that?” cried Ted Hoyt, stopping in his stride..