start back. Probably some one that you can ride in with will be passing
before evening."

"That is mighty kind of you," said Philip. "I think I will. It doesn't
matter so much what I eat, the point is that I must be moderate. I am
hungry all the time."

"Then we will go," said Mrs. Comstock, "and we will not allow you to
make yourself sick with us."

Philip Ammon arose: picking up the pail of greens and his fishing rod,
he stood waiting. Elnora led the way. Mrs. Comstock motioned Philip to
follow and she walked in the rear. The girl carried the cocoon and the
box of moths she had taken, searching every step for more. The young man
frequently set down his load to join in the pursuit of a dragonfly or
moth, while Mrs. Comstock watched the proceedings with sharp eyes. Every
time Philip picked up the pail of greens she struggled to suppress a
smile.

Elnora proceeded slowly, chattering about everything beside the trail.
Philip was interested in all the objects she pointed out, noticing
several things which escaped her. He carried the greens as casually
when they took a short cut down the roadway as on the trail. When Elnora
turned toward the gate of her home Philip Ammon stopped, took a long
look at the big hewed log cabin, the vines which clambered over it,
the flower garden ablaze with beds of bright bloom interspersed with
strawberries and tomatoes, the trees of the forest rising north and west
like a green wall and exclaimed: "How beautiful!"

Mrs. Comstock was pleased. "If you think that," she said, "perhaps you