CHAPTER VIII.
_Just a Day-dream._ Charming Billy rode humped over the saddle-horn, as rides one whose mind feels the weight of unpleasant thoughts.

Twice he had glanced uncertainly at his companion, opening his lips for speech; twice he had closed them silently and turned again to the uneven trail.
Mr.Dill also was humped forward in the saddle, but if one might judge from his face it was because he was cold.

The wind blew chill from out the north and they were facing it; the trail they followed was frozen hard and the gray clouds above promised snow.

The cheek-bones of Dill were purple and the point of his long nose was very red.

Tears stood in his eyes, whipped there by the biting wind.
"How far are we now from town ?" he asked dispiritedly.
"Only about five miles," Billy cheered.