Seth hurriedly gave her five pennies, and then, seizing Snip in his arms, ran out of the shop regardless of the questions she literally hurled after him.
His first care was to gaze down the road in the direction from which he had just come, and the relief of mind was great when he failed to see any signs of life.
“They haven’t caught up with us yet, Snippey,” he said, as if certain the officers were somewhere in the rear bent on taking him prisoner. “If they stop at the store, that woman will be sure to say we were here.”
Having thus spurred himself on, he continued the journey half an hour longer, when they had arrived at a grove of small trees and bushes through which ran a tiny brook.
“We can hide in here, an’ you’ll have a chance to run around on the grass till you’re tired,” he said, as, after making certain there was no one in sight to observe his movements, he darted amid the shrubbery.
It was not difficult for a boy tired as was Seth, to find a rest-inviting spot by the side of the stream where the bushes hid him from view of any who might chance to pass along the road, and without loss of time Snip set himself the task of chasing every butterfly that dared come within his range of vision, ceasing only for a few seconds at a time to lick his master’s hand, or take his share of the stale pastry.
It was most refreshing to Seth, this halt beneath the shade of the bushes where the brook sang such a song as he had never heard before, and despite the age of the cake his hunger was appeased. Save for the haunting fear that the officers of the law might be close upon his heels, he would have been very happy, and even under the painful circumstances attending his departure, he enjoyed in a certain degree the unusual scene before him.
Then Snip, wearied with his fruitless pursuit of the butterflies, crept close by his master’s side for a nap, and Seth yielded to the temptation to stretch himself out at full length on the soft, cool moss.
There was in his mind the thought that he must resume the flight within a short time, lest he fail to find a shelter before the night had come; but the dancing waters sang a most entrancing and rest-inviting melody until his eyes closed despite his efforts to hold them open, and master and dog were wrapped in slumber.
The birds gathered on the branches above the heads of the sleepers, gazing down curiously and with many an inquiring twitter, as if asking whether this boy was one who would do them a mischief if it lay in his power, and the butterflies flaunted their gaudy wings within an inch of Snip’s eyes; but the slumber was not broken.