quick to see the signs of relenting in the boy's face. "And
there'd be some of 'em, I know, that would be glad to give you a
home."

"I'd work--don't forget ter say that," cautioned the boy.

"Of course not," promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her
point was gained. "Then I'll let you know to-morrow."

"Where?"

"By the road--where I found you to-day; near Mrs. Snow's house."

"All right. I'll be there." The boy paused before he went on
slowly: "Maybe I'd better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the
Home. You see I hain't no other place ter stay; and--and I didn't
leave till this mornin'. I slipped out. I didn't tell 'em I
wasn't comin' back, else they'd pretend I couldn't come--though
I'm thinkin' they won't do no worryin' when I don't show up
sometime. They ain't like FOLKS, ye know. They don't CARE!"

"I know," nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. "But I'm
sure, when I see you to-morrow, I'll have just a common home and
folks that do care all ready for you. Good-by!" she called
brightly, as she turned back toward the house.

In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had
been watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy
until a bend of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed,
turned, and walked listlesly up-stairs--and Miss Polly did not