Dan had "taken it out of" George, the keeper: which annoyed him, for George was a good man. He was striding back from this mishap when he heard his name, in a shrill boyish voice, and saw Hugh running towards him,
waving a letter.
"Well, sonny, what's up?" he asked impatiently. "Father's gone away!" Hugh panted. "He left this for
Hugh stood smiling, with dancing eyes, as the man tore open the envelope. All his most beautiful dreams were coming true. To go with a Circus! and with these people, who had proved themselves so wonderfully kind. He would live in the blue caravan, he knew: life would be a succession of such days as the marvelous Sunday. He would have Nita to play with. And oh! he would have Tinker. "Golly, I hope Father'11 stay away a good while!"
he whispered to himself.
Then he saw Big Dan's face. First the bushy eyebrows went up in angry amazement, as he read, and then met in a frown that grew deeper. So black, so forbidding, grew his look that the child before him shrank back, even
before the harsh voice came.
"Well, your Dad's got a nerve! Does he think I'm an orphan asylum, I wonder? Cleared out, an left me his kid! He's got a hope! As if I hadn't enough worries of my'own, without taking on another man's cast-offs! Better go after him, that's all I can advise you. Out of my way, you little rat!"
His heavy hand brushed Hugh like a fly from his path.