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put ’em on.”
    â€œI’ll do the same in the future.”
    They might have talked away the day had not Sheriff Cathcart popped through the door.
    â€œWell, that’s a considerable improvement,” he announced. “Got some old boots here, Rastus. Give ’em a try. I’ll judge you’re tired o’ goin’ about in bare feet.”
    â€œYou get used to it in the wilds,” Erastus answered. “Thank you, Sheriff. Don’t know how I’ll pay you back.”
    â€œWas Mitch’s ma brought the boots by, son. As to thanks, well, we’re all o’ us feelin’ shame-faced from seein’ your back. Your ma had our oaths that we’d look in on you. Didn’t do too fine a job o’ that, I’m thinkin’.”
    â€œWasn’t your job. I’m of an age to be my own lookout.”
    â€œAnd you’d likely done a fair job o’ it if not for Otto Plank. Hurry into those boots now. Cora’ II have supper ready soon.”
    Actually, though, before accompanying the sheriff to his house on the outskirts of Thayerville, Erastus had to pass Becky Cathcart’s inspection. He felt a little like a horse at auction, what with her sniffing and staring and mumbling to herself.
    â€œYour hair’s all tangled,” she announced, “We’ll have to get it clipped. You got knobby fingers, too.”
    â€œFigure to cut them off as well?” he asked.
    She smiled a bit and waved him on to the house. He got a kinder reception there from Cora Cathcart and little Busby. Mrs. Cathcart gave him a warm, motherly hug and offered her regrets at his ill treatment. Busby brought him a carrot to munch on and pleaded to see the scars on Erastus’s back.
    â€œPay you a nickel,” the boy whispered. “More if I had it.”
    â€œYou come swimmin’ with me and Mitch sometime,” Erastus answered. “See ’em then.”
    As for the dinner, Erastus could hardly believe his eyes. Platters of pork chops and mounds of potatoes appeared before him. Vegetables he’d dared not dream of were piled high atop his plate. He’d been hungry so long he’d near forgotten what it was like to be otherwise. Now, as he gobbled bite after bite, it seemed he was bone empty and would need a year’s eating to fill up.
    â€œPa, look at him,” Becky complained.
    â€œTake your time, Rastus,” the sheriff instructed. “It’s not goin’ away, you know.”
    â€œLeave the boy alone,” Cora scolded. “Lord knows what he’s suffered. Forgive his manners this once.”
    Erastus grinned sheepishly and tried to be a bit more patient. His stomach would not be put off, though. It wasn’t until he’d finished off his fifth chop and two platters of potatoes and vegetables that he untucked his napkin.
    â€œI’ve got a peach pie set aside for later,” Mrs. Cathcart announced. “Just now maybe you’d like to take Erastus into the sitting room, Lem. The children and I’ll clean up.”
    â€œI can do my part,” Erastus offered. “I’ve washed dishes aplenty and scrubbed a floor or two as well.”
    â€œNot this night,” the sheriff declared. “Come along, son.”
    They strolled together out of the kitchen and along to a small room in the front of the house. Sheriff Cathcart placed a firm hand on Erastus’s shoulder, and the boy looked up. Not since J. C. had the life crushed from him had Erastus felt anything but alone. Now it seemed there might be someone to ease the path ahead.
    A knock came to the door then, and the sheriff motioned Erastus to a nearby chair and went to answer. Moments later John and Mary Morris joined him in the sitting room. Mitch, all scrubbed up and stiff-collared, followed slowly.
    â€œSheriff,” Mr. Morris said, “we came to ask after Erastus. Have you thought of his future?”
    â€œThere’s time