“It looks reasonable enough to me.”
He longed to reassure her.
“If he had gone back to town, he would have had to stop in some place to get something to eat. He didn’t stop anywhere.”
She slapped away a mosquito.
“But if he didn’t stop as he came, why should he stop going back?”
“He may have stopped at a dozen places coming, and found no one at home. He may have gone to his mother’s when she was at the picnic. That’s what she keeps wailing about—because she wasn’t there when he came!”
In the silence of the starlight, she gave a great sigh.
“It’s all my fault!” she declared.
He was too tired to listen to that.
“Our fault, indeed!” he answered sharply. “We never told him to come sneaking back and get lost, did we! We didn’t tell him never to write to his mother.”