But as the dusk of evening crept across the land, the great woods, now peopled by strange shadows, sent him forth into the highroad.

He was beginning to be very tired, and hunger smote him with fierce pangs, but back of it all was his sense of bitter loss, his desolation, and his loneliness.
"I couldn't forget Uncle Bob if I tried--" he told himself, with quivering lips, as he limped wearily along the dusty road, and the tears welled up and streaked his pinched face.

Now before him he saw the scattered lights of a settlement.

All his terrors, the terrors that grouped themselves about the idea of pursuit and capture, rushed back upon him, and in a panic he plunged into the black woods again.
But the distant lights intensified his loneliness.

He had lived a whole day without food, a whole day without speech.