"We are goin' home, Mr. Stubbs," he said, exultantly, to the monkey—"home to Uncle Dan'l an' the boys, an' won't you have a good time when we get there? You can run all over the barn, an' up in the trees, an' do just what you want to, an' there'll be plenty of fellers to play with you. You don't know half how good a place Guilford is, Mr. Stubbs."
The monkey chattered away as if he were anticipating lots of fun on his arrival at Toby's home, and the boy chattered back, his spirits rising at every step which took him further away from the collection of tents where he had spent so many wretched hours.
A brisk walk of half an hour sufficed to take Toby to the woods, and after some little search he found a thick clump of bushes, in which he concluded he could sleep without the risk of being seen by any one who might pass that way before he should be awake in the morning.
He had not much choice in the way of a bed, for it was so dark in the woods that it was impossible to collect moss or leaves to make a soft resting-place, and the few leaves and pine boughs which he did gather made his place for sleeping but very little softer.
But during the ten weeks that Toby had been with the circus his bed had seldom been anything softer than the seat of the wagon, and it troubled him very little that he was to sleep with nothing but a few leaves between himself and the earth.
Using the bundle in which was his riding costume for a pillow, and placing the lunch Mrs. Treat had given him near by, where the monkey could not get at it conveniently, he cuddled Mr. Stubbs up in his bosom, and lay down to sleep.
"Mr. Lord won't wake us up in the mornin', an' swear at us for not washin' the tumblers," said Toby, in a tone of satisfaction, to the monkey; "an' we won't have to go into the tent to-morrow, an' sell sick lemonade an' poor pea-nuts. But"—and here his tone changed to one of sorrow—"there'll be some there that'll be sorry not to see us in the mornin', Mr. Stubbs, though they'll be glad to know that we got away all right. But won't Mr. Lord swear, an' won't Mr. Castle crack his whip, when they come to look round for us in the mornin', an' find that we hain't there?"
The only reply which the monkey made to this was to nestle his head closer under Toby's coat, and to show, in the most decided manner, that he was ready to go to sleep.
And Toby was quite as ready to go to sleep as he was. He had worked hard that day, but the excitement of escaping had prevented him from realizing his fatigue until after he had lain down, and almost before he had got through congratulating himself upon the ease with which he had gotten free, both he and the monkey were as sound asleep as if they had been tucked up in the softest bed that was ever made.
Toby's very weariness was a friend to him that night, for it prevented him from waking, which, if he had done so, might have been unpleasant when he fully realized that he was all alone in the forest, and the sounds that are always heard in the woods might have frightened him just the least bit.