was telling the truth? 
Suppose they have taken your father away? You know they have said 
things about him, and lots of people believe he is a bad man. I never 
did. But suppose they really have taken him, what will you do?" 
"I don't know. Stay there, I suppose. But, Bessie, it can't be true!" 
"Maybe they wouldn't let you stay. When Mary Morton's mother died 
last year and left her alone, they took her to the poorhouse. Maybe 
they'd make you go there, too." 
"They shan't!" cried Zara, her eyes flashing through her tears. "I -- I"ll 
run away -- I'll do anything -- " 
"I'm going to run away, myself," said Bessie, quietly. She had been 
doing a lot of thinking. "No one could make me work harder than Maw 
Hoover, and they'd pay me for doing it. I'm going to get as far away as I 
can and get a real job." 
Zara looked at Bessie, usually so quiet and meek, in surprise. There 
was a determined note in Bessie's voice that she had never heard there 
before. 
"We'll stick together, you and I, Zara," said Bessie. "I'm afraid 
something has happened to your father. And if that's so, we'd better 
wait until it's dark, and go there quietly, so that we can listen, and see if 
there's anyone around looking for you." 
"But we won't get any supper!" said poor Zara. "And I'm hungry 
already!" 
"We'll find berries and nuts, and we can easily find a spring where we 
can drink all we want," said Bessie. "I guess we've got to look out for 
ourselves now, Zara. There's no one else to do it for us."
And Bessie, the meek, the quiet, the subdued, from that moment took 
command. Always before Zara had seemed the plucky one of the two. 
She had often urged Bessie to rebel against Maw Hoover's harshness, 
and it had been always Bessie who had hung back and refused to do 
anything that might make trouble. But now, when the time for real 
action had come, and Bessie recognized it, it was she who made the 
plans and decided what was to be done. 
Bessie knew the woods well, far better than Zara. Unerringly she led 
the way to a spot she knew, where a farm had been allowed to drift 
back to wild country, and pointed out some cherry trees. 
"Some berries aren't good to eat, but I know those cherries," said Bessie. 
"They used to be the best trees in the whole county years ago -- Paw 
Hoover's told me that. Some believe that they're no good now, because 
no one has looked after the trees, but I know they're fine. I ate some 
only the other day, and they're ripe and delicious. So we'll have supper 
off these trees." 
Zara, as active as a little cat, climbed the tree at once, and in a moment 
she was throwing down the luscious fruit to Bessie, who gathered it in 
her apron and called to Zara when she had picked enough of the big, 
round cherries. 
"Aren't they good, Zara? Eat as many as you want. They're not like a 
real supper of meat and potatoes and things like that, you know, but 
they'll keep us from feeling hungry." 
"They certainly will, Bessie. I'd never have known about them. But 
then I haven't lived long enough in the country to know it the way you 
do. I've been in cities all my life." 
"Yes, and if we get to the city, Zara, you'll know lots of things and be 
able to tell me all about them. It must be wonderful." 
"I suppose it is, Bessie, but I never thought of it that way. It must have 
been because I was used to everything of that sort. When you see things 
every day you get so that you don't think anything about them. I used to
laugh at people from the country when I'd see them staring up at the 
high buildings, and jumping when an automobile horn tooted anywhere 
near them." 
"I suppose it must have seemed funny to you." 
"Yes, but I was sorry when I came out here and saw that everyone was 
laughing at me. There were all sorts of things I'd never seen or thought 
about. I'm really only just beginning to get used to them now. Bessie, 
it's getting pretty dark. Won't the moon be up soon?" 
"Not for an hour or two yet, Zara. But it is dark now -- we'd better 
begin walking toward your house. We want to get there while it stays 
dark, and before the old moon does get up. It'll be just as bright as 
daylight then, and they'd be able to see us. I tell you what -- we want    
    
		
	
	
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