did not wish to be identified? Come, son! what harm is there in our knowing who you are?"
Fred Hatfield sank back in the feathers and weakly rolled his head from side to side. The blood receded from his cheeks, leaving him quite as pale as before. He whispered:
"I ran away."
"Yes. That's what I supposed," said Mr. Cameron, easily. "What for?"
"I—I can't tell you."
"What did you do?"
"I didn't say I did anything. I just got sick of it up there, and came away," the boy said, sullenly.
"Your father is dead?" asked the gentleman, shrewdly.
"Yes, sir."
"Got a mother?"
"Yes, sir."
"Doesn't she need you?"
"No, sir."
"Why not?"
"She's got Ez, and Peter, and 'Lias to work the farm. They're all older'n me. Then there's the two gals and Bob, who are younger. She don't need me," declared Fred Hatfield, doggedly.
"I don't believe a mother ever had so many children that she didn't sorely miss the one who
