"I thought I'd go out to check my trap lines today, Mam," Owen said at breakfast. "Is there anything I can take to eat?"

"Of course," Blanche said fondly, looking at her oldest son and starting to make a packet of bread and cheese for him.

"And maybe some extra for Jeffrey?" Owen asked hopefully.

Blanche held up a second packet. "I'm already working on it." Owen had taken quite a liking to the boy he had found by the lake. Some of it was just that he was close to Owen's own age, but Owen also admired his spirit and tenacity.

"I want to go see Jeffrey!" Gareth, Owen's eight-year-old brother, said.

"Me, too!" piped up Percy, Owen's six-year-old brother.

Owen had taken the boys with him to see Jeffrey a few times and they had both developed a case of hero worship. Not only did Jeffrey talk to them and play with them and teach them new games they had never heard of before, but he was living in a cave by himself.

"Not today," Blanche said firmly. "It looks like there is a storm coming. If we didn't need the food and you didn't need to check on Jeffrey, I'd tell you to stay home as well, Owen. So please be careful and as quick as you can be."

"I will, Mam," Owen promised. "I'll just run the trap line, check on Jeffrey, and head straight back."

Owen reached the lake by late morning. As he came over the pass and approached the lake, he called for Jeffrey but didn't see him anywhere. Could Bogg have actually returned for him? But then Jeffrey stepped out from behind a tree, waving. "Hi Owen!" he called. "Did you bring any of your mom's fantastic bread for me?"

Owen grinned and held up the food packets in his hand. "Bread and cheese!" he yelled.

"Great! I've got some fish and cabbage soup cooking at the cave," Jeffrey said, heading in that direction. "Let's eat!"

The boys sat outside Jeffrey's cave to share a meal. They had fallen into a pattern on the days that Owen visited; they would eat together and then spend the afternoon fishing, or playing games, or just talking. Both boys were enjoying having a friend close to his own age.

"It's going to storm," Owen said. "Why don't you come back home with me?"

"Nope," Jeffrey said promptly. "Waiting for Bogg, remember?"

"You've been waiting a long time. What if he never comes back? I don't think he's going to."

"You don't know anything," Jeffrey said, starting to get a little angry.

"I know you've been waiting here for weeks. If he was going to come back, he would have already done so by now," Owen argued. "Why can't you just admit you're on your own now?" As Jeffrey remained silent, Owen said quietly, "He could be dead." He looked over at Jeffrey to see if he was making him angrier but to his horror, he saw tears in the other boy's eyes which was infinitely worse.

"He's not!" Jeffrey cried out, jumping to his feet. Dashing the tears from his eyes, he ran down to the lake, standing on the shore with his head bowed. Owen thought he looked very alone.

"I'm sorry, Jeffrey!" he called. "Please come back!"

After a moment, Jeffrey turned and walked back to the cave. "Don't ever say that again," he told Owen quietly. "I know it's not true." Just then, a patter of raindrops struck him in the face and he looked up, startled. The clouds seemed to have doubled in size in just minutes. As the rain began to fall in earnest, the two boys hurried into the cave for shelter.

Jeffrey had made a sleeping pallet from long grasses lashed together with vines and covered with a blanket that Owen's mother had sent for him. It took up about half the cave, but there was still room for the boys to sit and watch the rain.

"What will you do if – I mean when – Bogg comes for you?" Owen asked. "What plans did the two of you have?"

"That's not the way we live," Jeffrey said. "We travel a lot. I guess you could call us voyagers," he said with a wry grin.

"What about your parents? Where are they?"

Jeffrey's grin slipped away. "Dead," he said quietly. Although Owen waited, he didn't offer any more information.

"I'm sorry," Owen said. He often had the feeling that Jeffrey was not telling him the whole truth, but this one he did not doubt. And even if Jeffrey had his secrets, Owen felt that there was no wrong in him.

The storm was fierce but brief, and as it ended, Owen began to gather his things. "I guess I better be going," he said. "I'm sorry about what I said, Jeffrey. I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's okay," Jeffrey said quietly. "You don't know Bogg but I do. He'll be back."

As Owen walked away, he looked back to wave at Jeffrey and hoped he was right.

vVvVv

He could be dead.

Jeffrey sat before his fire in the gathering dusk and heard Owen's words echoing in his head. He couldn't deny that he had thought them himself, but hearing the words spoken aloud made them seem more possible.

Jeffrey stared into the flames and thought about Bogg. He had never felt so safe as when he was with Bogg. Even when they faced danger, he knew that Bogg would never let him down. He thought of Bogg looking after him, protecting him, defending him, comforting him. A tear rolled down his cheek. Jeffrey wiped it away impatiently. It didn't do any good to sit around feeling sorry for himself. He just had to keep himself alive and in the area until Bogg returned. It was as simple as that.

Jeffrey got some acorns he had stored at the side of his cave and played an impromptu game of marbles with himself. The acorns wouldn't roll straight, so he had made a version of the game where you threw the acorn into the ring with a flick of the wrist and tried to hit the other acorns out of the circle. He had taught the game to Owen's brothers. Owen said they had collected their own acorns and played the game often at home.

After tiring of the game, Jeffrey stretched out to sleep. "Good night, Bogg," he said quietly. "God, keep him safe and bring him back."