le into
his face.

"You'll help _me_ to find my fath-er and moth-er, won't you?" she cried.

"_Cer_-tainly!"

"We were starting just as you came," said the Man-Who-Makes-Faces.

"Well, let's be off!" His whistle hung by a thin chain from a
button-hole of his coat. He swung it to his lips, _Toot! Toot!_ It was a
cheery blast.

The next moment, coming, as it were, on the heels of her sudden good
fortune, Gwendolyn closed her right hand and found herself possessed of
a bag of candy!--red-and-white stick-candy of the variety that she had
often seen selling at street corners (out of show-cases that went on
wheels). More than once she had longed, and in vain, to stop at one of
these show-cases and purchase. Now she suddenly remembered having done
so with a high hand. The sticks were striped spirally. Boldly she
produced one and fell to sucking it, making more noise with her sucking
than ever the strict proprieties of the nursery permitted.

Then, candy in hand, and with the little old gentleman on her right, the
Policeman on her left, and Jane trailing behind, doing a
one-two-three-and-point, she set forward gayly along the wide, curving
road.

CHAPTER XI

As she trotted along, pulling with great relish at a candy-stick, she
glanced down at the Policeman every now and then--and glowed with pride.
On some few well-remembered occasions her chauffeur had condescended to
hold a short conversation with her; had even permitted her to sound the
clarion of the limousine, with its bright, piercing tones. All of which
had been keenly gratifying. But here she was, actually conversing with
an Officer in full uniform! And on terms of perfect equality!

She proffered him the bag of spiral sweets.

He cocked his head side wise at it. "Is that the chewing kind?" he
inquired.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

However, he did not seem in the least disappointed. For he had a
mouthful of gum, and this he cracked loudly from time to time--in a way
that excited her admiration and envy.

"I've watched you go by our house lots of times," she confided
presently, eager to say something cordial.

"Oh?" said he. "It's a beat that does well enough in summer. But in the
wintertime I'd rather be Down-Town." Puffing a little,--for though he
was upside down and walking on his hands, he had so far made good
progress--he halted and rested his feet against the lowest limb of a
tree that stood close to the road. Now his cap touched the ground, and
h