“Nantic? Do you suppose—” Jean stopped short. Tommy failed to notice her hesitancy, but went on outdoors. Perhaps the boy was wondering if he could get any trace of his father down at Nantic, she thought. There was a great deal of her mother’s nature in Jean’s sympathy and swift, sure understanding of another’s need. She kept an eye out for Jack all day, but the afternoon passed and supper was on the table without any sign of their Christmas waif. And finally, when Ralph came in from the barn with Tommy, he said he was pretty sure Jack had run away.
“Do you think it’s because he didn’t want to stay with us while Mother was away?” asked Doris.
“No, I don’t,” Tommy put in. “I think he’s just born restless and he had to take to the road when the call came to him.”
But Jean felt the responsibility of Jack’s loss, and set a lamp burning all night in the living room window as a sign to light his way back home. It was such a long walk down to Nantic, and when he got there, Mr. Briggs would be sure to see him, and make trouble for him. And perhaps he had just wandered out into the hills on a regular hike and had gotten lost.
But neither the next day, nor the day after, did any news come to them of Jack. Mr. Briggs was sure he hadn’t been around the station or the freight trains. Saturday Kit and Doris drove around through the wood roads, looking for some sign of him, and Jean telephoned to all the points she could think of, giving a description of him, and asking them to send the wanderer back if they found him. But the days passed, and it looked as if Jack had really gone.
One afternoon Jean and Ralph were sitting on the back steps when Buzzy and Kit hailed them from the hill. Kit was wearing a pair of slacks and a red blouse hanging outside of them. On her head she had jammed one of Tommy’s caps, and on the side she had stuck a quail’s feather.
“Hi,” called Kit, “we’ve been for a hike, clear over to the village. Mother phoned she needed some things from the drugstore, so we thought we’d walk over and get them. Billie’s just the same. He doesn’t know a soul, and all he talks about is making his math exams. I think it’s perfectly shameful to take a boy like that who loves reading and nature and natural things, and grind him down to regular stuff.”
She flopped down on the grass in front of them with Buzzy at her side. “I love a good long hike,” Kit went on. “Especially when I feel bothered or indignant. We’ve kept up the hiking club ever since the roads opened up, Jean. It’s more fun than anything out here. I never realized there was so much to know about just woods and fields until Sally taught me where to hunt for things. Do you like to hike, Ralph?”
“I don’t know. Not too long. I think I’d rather ride.”
“Me, too,” Doris said flatly. She had been working in the garden and had come up when she heard Kit and Buzzy’s voices. “I don’t see a bit of fun dragging around like Kit does, through the woods and over swamps, climbing hills, and always wanting to get to the top of the next one.”