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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.,

There was very little more chance for conversation, as they were rapidly approaching a low, adobe house surrounded by outbuildings which were evidently stables and laborers’ houses. When they galloped in they were hailed by a bunch of cowboys who were perched on the corral fence. Jerry answered them with a shout and waved his hand but continued to lead the way to the main building. On the porch two men were sitting in chairs tilted up against the wall. Jerry introduced Bob to them.,

Olaf and Herman plied the oars as hard as they could, while Johnny Blossom sat proudly erect upon the “red pear.” He had never thought of its being possible for any one to sit here. Just think, only water far and wide around him! Yet here he sat entirely at his ease, could sit here just the same if a storm should blow up—that would be a small matter for Johnny Blossom. Now that the boys were away off behind the big coal steamer, any one might wonder how much farther they meant to row.,

Indifference to his wife affecting.

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“Good idea,” commented Mr. Whitney and was silent until the engine pulled up snorting as near their destination as it could get. “Come along,” invited Mr. Whitney as he swung off the engine. Pleased, Bob did his best to keep up with his long-legged boss who had headed for the point of trouble with great strides.,

Bob shook the sleep out of his eyes and hustled into his clothes. When he came downstairs with Jerry he found that Mr. Whitney had already finished his breakfast and had gone out. So he and Jerry had theirs. During the meal Bob tried again to draw his new comrade out, but the same unwillingness to talk possessed Jerry. Bob rather wondered what was the matter. He had not been used to meeting with such reserve. He remembered also that during the conversation on the porch the night before Jerry had spoken hardly a word but sat in his chair motionless. At last, giving it up as a bad job, he finished his meal in silence. Steve Whitney met them in the lobby.,

“An old postage stamp,” said she.,

Johnny’s face was swollen with crying, and the tears had made streaks down his dirty cheeks.