Barlow had looked in her face just once, and then he had gone out in front of the house, and laid down in the grass.
Nearly an hour went by, or it seemed so to Jed, before he mustered courage to say, "May I go out, ma'am, and walk around a little?"
"Hain't ye walked fur enough for one day? I wonder your mother ever let sech a mite of a thing go a-cattle-drovin'. Well, go 'long. Only don't you be late for supper. You won't git a bite if you be."
Jed was out of the house in a twinkling, with his hand on the pocket which contained his four shillings.
"Barlow, come here."
It was no use to say, "Come here," for Barlow was travelling down the home road as fast as his short legs could carry him. When he reached what he may have thought a safe distance, he sat down and barked back. It was his turn to say, "Come here," and Jed understood it.
"It's only seven miles home, and no cow. What's the use of my staying here?"
It was plain enough that Jed was thinking again, and he was counting those four bits of silver coin over and over. There would be only three of them left if he staid all night at Mrs. Simmons's. Two packs of crackers gone, at six and a quarter cents a pack.
"I'd have to walk home, after all, or pay for a ride, or catch on to some wagon. No, sir! I'm going now."
He was afraid to say as much to the widow. He did not even go near the house again.