“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, I’ll get you what I have. Have you had your dinner?” she asked of Frank.
“Yes, ma’am—I got it at the place below here.”
The lady of the house passed into the kitchen and Frank followed her and motioned her to the back door, out of hearing of the boy.
“I picked him up on the road,” he whispered. “I talked to him and found he was running away from home. He hasn’t had any breakfast or dinner. I talked to him, and he has promised to go back.”
“For the land sakes! Did you ever!” murmured the woman, in amazement. “Do you know, when he passed, I thought he might be a runaway. How foolish! And I suppose he left a good home too!”
“More than likely.”
“Did he tell his name?”
“Bobby Frost.”
“From Oakwood?”