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224 CHAPTER XXXII

Happy Forgetter pursued his way calmly along the winding path that skirted the glowing river, apparently, and no doubt really, unconscious of the fact that Bulger and I were following close at his heels. After half an hour or so of this silent tramp, he suddenly came to a standstill, and with his placid countenance turned toward the light seemed to be so far away in thought that for several moments I hesitated to address him. But as there were no signs of his showing any disposition to come to himself, I made bold to ask him the cause of the delay.

“I’m happy to say,” he remarked, without so much as deigning to turn his head, “that I’ve forgotten which of these two roads leads to the homes of our people.”

Well, this was a pleasant outlook to be sure, and, I don’t know what we should have done had not Bulger solved the difficulty for us by making choice of one of the paths and dashing on ahead with a bark of encouragement for us to follow.

When I assured the Happy Forgetter that he need have no fear as to the wisdom of the choice, he gave a start of almost