The only answer was a sob:

"Good-by, Jeff--"

Her hands slowly slipped through his.

"Good-by, Polly--"

He watched her go with quivering lips, and as the little figure slowly
faded into the shadows of the woods he called in broken accents:

"Kiss Mamma for me--and tell her I wanted to go back and say
good-by--but Joe wouldn't let me!"

"Yes, honey!"

"And you--watch out for that old drunk man we saw once in the woods,
Polly!"

"Yes!"

"Don't let him get you--"

"No--I won't--good--good-by!"

"Good-by--"

The last good-by stuck in the Boy's throat, but he lifted his blue eyes,
saw his pony and smiled through the tears.