neatness and homely comfort that Hugh had noticed about the little Swedish houses in Rudolm. A plume of smoke was rising from the chimney and, at the open window, a white curtain was blowing in the morning wind. Before he reached the door, it opened and Oscar Dansk came out upon the wide stone step. The moment their eyes met Hugh knew they were to become fast friends.
There seemed no more natural thing in the world than to sit down upon the doorstep—Hugh’s tired legs could not have carried him farther—and tell Oscar immediately all about why he had come. The other seemed to understand at once just what had happened, just why Hugh had come to find him and just what he himself was expected to do. He shook his head gravely when he heard how long the Edmonds boys had been gone.
“Five days when you first heard,” he said; “that makes seven now and another night. It is bad, but not hopeless. If they are alive we will find them.”
“Your sister thinks they are alive,” repeated
