“Dan, you don’t know how glad I am to see you again,” said David, as soon as his brother was fairly awake. “Where in the world have you kept yourself? Father and I have been in the woods every day looking for you, but could find no traces of you.”
This announcement arrested the angry words that arose to Dan’s lips. He must have been missed at home, or else his father and brother would not have spent time in looking for him.
“You shake as though you were half frozen,” continued David, glancing at his brother’s blue cold hands and face. “Get up and come into the house with me. There’s a good fire there.”
“Wal, I dunno,” replied Dan, sitting up on his bed of leaves, and speaking as plainly as his chattering teeth would permit. “Mebbe I ain’t wanted thar.”
“Why, yes, you are, What put that notion into your head?”
“Ye heared me tell pap whar yer money was, I reckon, didn’t ye?”
“Of course I did; but I don’t bear you any ill will for that.”
“Nor mam, nuther?”
“No, nor mother, either. I wish I had never earned the money, for it has made us a world of trouble. But, we’ve, begun all over again, and are going to do better, all of us. Come on, now, Dan; mother wants to see you, and so does father.”
But Dan didn’t know whether to come on or not. He felt that he had forfeited all right to his home, and that he would be justly punished if he were never permitted to cross the threshold again. But, he was cold, hungry, and utterly discouraged; and, after David had argued with him a few minutes longer, he allowed him to lift him to his feet and lead him toward the cabin. He hesitated at the door, but David pushed him in, and Dan was not a little astonished at the reception that was extended to him. His mother kissed him and cried over him, his father wrung his hand until Dan was almost ready to cry himself, and then he was placed in a chair in the warmest corner. As soon as he could handle a knife and fork, a plate filled with the most substantial breakfast he had ever eaten under that roof was passed over to him, and Dan did ample justice to it. He was left pretty nearly to himself, for the family, knowing what his feelings must be, did not trouble him with any questions. He sat in his chair—it was a chair, too, he noticed, and not a nail-keg with a board placed over the top of it—with his head hanging down and his chin resting on his breast; but his eyes were roving everywhere, and they found much to excite his wonder. The cabin had been furnished with a new table and a few chairs during his absence; two comfortable beds had taken the places of the miserable “shake-downs;” the cracked and broken dishes had given way to new ones, and everything was as neat as it could be kept. Dan felt out of place there.