"And the umbrella?" asked Cora.

"Oh, they went to a barn for that. It was raining, and my polite
friends did not want me to take cold."

His tone was bitterly cutting; taking cold would evidently have
been of small account to him.

"And they sat you upon that log?" put in Maud.

"Like any ordinary bump," he rejoined. "I never knew the misery
of a bump on a log before."

"And, you are not hurt?" Hazel pressed close to his side and
looked up lovingly at the tall boy.

"Not in the least - that is, physically. But I am seriously hurt
mentally."

Cora could not but recognize how handsome Paul was. The
excitement seemed to fire his whole being, and throw some subtle
human phosphorus - a light from his burning brain certainly
brightened in his eyes and even in his cheeks.

"Come along, girls," he said hurriedly. "Never mind the
paraphernalia. Some lonely goat might like the rags. Let's get
out on the road."

His anxiety was of course for the mail. That leather bag meant
more to him than the mere transference of Uncle Sam's freight - it