Tommy walked beside Muffs in order to give directions although that was properly the work of the silent Guide. Mary trudged on behind as it was her turn to carry the basket of lunch. They had passed the apple orchard and were following the trail which might, if their play came true, lead to the Bramble Bush Man’s house. There couldn’t be a real Bramble Bush Man. At least the children couldn’t see exactly how a man could scratch his eyes out and then scratch them in again and still be wondrous wise. But they were looking for the impossible. The trail was narrow and crooked and held no end of mystery.