It was not the thought of his loneliness that come to him
now, but the thought that he was safe. The Law could not reach him now,
even if it knew where he was. And before it began its hunt for him again
in the spring he would be hiking southward, to the Girl and the Baby, and
it would still be hunting for him when they three would be making a new
home for themselves in some other part of the world. For the first time
in months he was almost happy. He closed and bolted the door, and began
to WHISTLE. He was amazed at the change in himself, and wonderingly he
stared at his reflection in the cracked bit of mirror against the wall.
He grinned, and addressed himself aloud.
"You need a shave," he told himself. "You'd scare fits out of anything
alive! Now that we've got company we've got to spruce up, an' look
civilized."
It took him an hour to get rid of his heavy beard. His face looked almost
boyish again. He was inspecting himself in the mirror when he heard a
sound that turned him slowly toward the table. The little mouse was
nosing about his tin plate. For a few moments Falkner watched it, fearing
to move. Then he cautiously began to approach the table. "Hello there,
old chap," he said, trying to make his voice soft and ingratiating.
"Pretty late for breakfast, ain't you?"
At his approach the mouse humped itself into a motionless ball and
watched him. To Falkner's delight it did not run away when he reached the
table and sat down.
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