"I'll tell you, grandpa, let's go back and get warm and rested. You know there is some of that bushel of coal left Mis' Gray got the other day. Then tomorrow we can try once more. The lady said something about church and Sunday school, but I don't know what she meant. Mebbe we can find some yet to tell us, when it's for everybody. I'd think we could."
"Jest as you say, dearie, jest as you say, but it 'pears like we must find it, 'cause I'm so homesick."
Slowly they began retracing their steps, the old man leaning heavily with one hand upon the stick which served as a cane, and with the other clasping Rosa's.
Turning a corner, they suddenly came face to face with a well-dressed gentleman who, Rosa thought, could certainly tell them.
"Oh, say, mister," she said running up to his side, "won't you please—"
"No, I won't, you little beggar, I have nothing for you."
For the instant she was so surprised and indignant, that she could not answer, but, collecting herself, shouted after him:
"We ain't either beggars, and I don't want no money. I just want to know the way to the beautiful land."
But the man was lost in the crowd, and the weary, disappointed pilgrims started on.
So frequently did they have to turn aside into some alley or secluded spot for grandpa to rest that Rosa became alarmed. What if night should overtake them, bringing to pass the policeman's direful prediction?