Neither Paul nor his companion had much idea of the extent of the great metropolis, or they would not have taken it so much as a matter of course that, being in the same place, they should meet each other.
Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of a bell from a farmhouse within sight.
“That's our breakfast-bell,” said John rising from the grass. “It is meant for me. I suppose they wonder what keeps me so long. Won't you come and take breakfast with me, Paul?”
“I guess not,” said Paul, who would have been glad to do so had he followed the promptings of his appetite. “I'm afraid your folks would ask me questions, and then it would be found out that I am running away.”
“I didn't think of that,” returned John, after a pause. “You haven't got any dinner with you?” he said a moment after.
“No.”
“Well, I'll tell you what I'll do. Come with me as far as the fence, and lie down there till I've finished breakfast. Then I'll bring something out for you, and maybe I'll walk along a little way with you.”
“You are very kind,” said Paul, gratefully.
“Oh, nonsense,” said John, “that's nothing. Besides, you know we are going to be friends.”
“John! breakfast's ready.”