gabardines, mother had called them, reaching almost to the ground; shoes
that showed the toes, and hoods for hats. One of them had none. How
closely they looked at him!. They didn't even see which way they were
going, and what a long way it was, stretching out there, dusty and hot.

The room was quite dark now save for the light on the narrow road there.
What was yonder little village in the distance? What kind of a place was
Emmaus? His mother had told him about it; only one street, a long and
narrow one; and very few trees; and one or two trading shops only; and the
houses low and flat-roofed, with no glass in them; and the sun shining
down hot and straight between them, - and (oh, how his head ached!) he
was out there looking for Bob Sykes. Maybe that was he lying on this
rude bench with the low cedar-bush over it. If it were, he would settle
matters with him quick. He would show him - but it wasn't Bob, it was
only a sheep-dog asleep. So Tommy turned away and walked slowly along
the middle of the street. His face burned with the heat of the sun on
his bruises. He was very thirsty. Climbing a little hill over which the
road lay, he saw on the other side of it another boy coming toward him.
He was rather a peculiar looking boy, with a face thoughtful but
pleasant. He was carrying a heavy sheepskin bag over his shoulder. Tommy
determined to ask him if he knew where there was some water.

"Hello," he said, as the, boy drew near.

The boy stopped and smiled at Tommy without making reply.

"Where are you going?" said Tommy.

"I am carrying this bag of tools to my father," the boy answered.