Walking before him was an elderly gentleman who had on his head a Panama straw hat with a broad brim.
He was a Boston merchant who was spending a part of the season at Cook’s Harbor. As his custom was, he was indulging in an evening walk after supper.
There was a brisk east wind blowing, which suddenly increased in force, and, being no respecter of persons, whisked off Mr. Lawrence Tudor’s expensive Panama and whirled it away.
Mr. Tudor looked after his hat in dismay. He was an elderly gentleman, of ample proportions, who was accustomed to walk at a slow, dignified pace and who would have found it physically uncomfortable to run, even if he could be brought to think it comported with his personal dignity.
“Bless my soul, how annoying!” exclaimed the merchant.
He looked about him helplessly, as if to consider what course it would be best to pursue under the circumstances, and as he looked he was relieved to see a boy in energetic pursuit of the lost hat.
This boy was Robert, who grasped the situation at once, and, being fleet of foot, thought it very good fun to have a race with the wind.
He had a good chase, for the wind in this case proved to be no mean competitor, but at last he succeeded and put his hand on the hat, which he carried in triumph to its owner.
“Really, my boy, I am exceedingly indebted to you,” said Mr. Tudor, made happy by the recovery of his hat.
“You are quite welcome, sir,” said Robert politely.