"No, I guess it's not," said Bunny. "Anyhow, we'll take 'em."

The ragged man appeared with a plate of cookies. The children said they
were very good indeed, fully as good as Mother Brown baked, and Tramp,
the dog, ate his share, too, sitting up on his hind legs and begging for
one when the ragged man told him to. Then the dog would sit up with a
cookie balanced on his nose, and he would not snap it off to eat until
the man told him to.

"Well, I like to have you stay," said the hermit, "but it is getting
late, and perhaps I had better take you to the road that leads straight
to your camp."

"Yes, we had better go," replied Bunny. "We'll know our way home now.
Thank you for taking care of us and for the cookies."

"Which we didn't ask for," said Sue quickly. "Did we, Mr. Bixby?"

"No, you didn't," he answered with a laugh, and he seemed to understand
what Sue meant without asking any questions.

As Mr. Bixby started away from his cabin, to lead the children down to
the road, they met an Indian coming up the path. He was not Eagle
Feather, but one of the tribe.

"How!" and the Indian nodded to the ragged man.

"How!" answered Mr. Bixby.

"You got heap big medicine ready for make Indian's pain better?" asked