"On a farm?"
"No, sir. I didn't work on a farm."
"Where was it then?"
"I—I'd rather not tell," the boy said, looking around him as though he thought some one might be after him.
"Look here!" said Grandpa Brown. "You haven't been a bad boy; have you?"
"No—no, sir. I've tried to be good. But the—the people I worked for made it hard for me. They wanted me to do things I couldn't, and they beat me and didn't give me enough to eat. So I just ran away. They may come after me—that's why I don't want to tell you. If you don't know where I ran from, you won't know what to tell them if they come after me. But I'll go now."
The boy got up from the table, as though to go out into the night. It was raining now.
"No, I won't let you go," said Grandpa Brown. "And I won't give you up to the people who beat you. I'll look into this. You can stay here to-night. You can sleep in the room with Bunker Blue. He'll look after you. Now I hope you have been telling me the truth!"
"Oh, yes, sir. It's all true. I did work for—for some people, and they half starved me and made me work very hard. I just had to run away, and I hope they don't catch me and take me back."
"Well, I hope so, too," Grandpa Brown said. "I can't imagine what sort of work you did. You don't look very strong."