And no wonder you were thrown--in those boots! ...

So I thought I'd--" "You thought I needed clothes as bad as grub," he said, bitterly.

"I reckon that's so." His look, more than his tone, cut Lucy; and involuntarily she touched his arm.

"Oh, you won't refuse to take them! Please don't!" At her touch a warmth came into his face.

"Take them?
I should smile I will." He tried to reach down to lift the pack, but as it was obviously painful for him to bend, Lucy intercepted him.
"But you've had no breakfast," she protested.