thoughts went to Nita, tucked up snugly in the cabin— and last night this child, too, had a home. She put down a burden she was carrying and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Jeff good to you, son?"
"Oh, awful good. He'11 be over soon."
"That's all right." Her voice was relieved. "How's everything going with you?"
"I like it," he said. "They gave me jobs. Only "
"I know. Bit lonesome when night comes. Well, you be a man, Hugh, an' you'11 get on well—things always look better in the morning. I brought your things over—Jeff must have forgotten to come for them. And here's a bit of chocolate for you."
The tone meant more than the chocolate. It was the Mrs. Dan of yesterday, and his heart leaped.
"Thanks—but you shouldn't have carried that heavy thing," he said, gratefully.
"Oh, that won't kill me. Now, you do your best an' keep up your courage. Mr. Crowe's got his eye on you— he told me you worked like a good 'un."
"Oh—true, Mrs. Peterson?"
"True. Only it's between ourselves, mind. Well, I must go." She patted his head, and hurried away.
Hugh sat down again. All his troubles had vanished— all the loneliness. New hope filled him. Mr. Crowe—that great man—had said he worked well. And—oh, hadn't Mrs. Dan been nice! He ate his chocolate, thinking over what she had said. He'd show her he could work!