some place where he did not wish to go, by people whom he had never
seen before. The Goodman at last sat down before Zeb on the settle and
tried to get from him some account of what had happened in the forest.
But Zeb was totally unable to tell his story. His few words of English
were inadequate to the recital of the terrors of the past twenty-four
hours.

"Let the lad be," said the Goodwife at last. "He 's safe, praise God,
and we shall just have to wait to find out how he managed to escape
from the savages and make his way back here." She went to the secret
closet and brought out a huge piece of pumpkin pie. Zeb's eyes gleamed
as he seized it. "He must n't eat too much at once," said she. "As
nearly as I can make out by the shells, he 's had six eggs already.
That will do for a time. Dan, build a fire in the fireplace in the old
kitchen. There 's warm water in the kettle, and do thou see that Zeb
takes a bath. He is crusted with mud. He must have wallowed in it.
Nancy and I will get dinner the while."

Dan beckoned to Zeb, and the two boys disappeared. Zeb had never
bathed before except in the ocean, and the new process did not please
him. "I believe he wished he 'd stayed with the Indians," said Dan when
he appeared an hour later followed by a well-polished but somewhat
embittered Zeb. "I 've just about taken his skin off and I 'm all worn
out. Oh, Mother, is n't dinner almost ready?"

"Almost," said his mother, as she opened the oven door to take a peep
at the turkey, which had been cooking since early morning. "It only
needs browning before the fire while I make the gravy."

The table was already spread, and Nancy was at that very moment giving