friend of mine. Miss Martin, Mr.
Campbell."

Miss Martin straightway offered her hand, and Checkers shook it
cordially.

"Let's go and sit where we can see the moon--it's perfectly beautiful
to-night," said Pert. "Arthur, get two chairs from the porch, and
bring them over by the hammock."

Arthur went to fulfill his mission while Checkers walked between the
young ladies.

Suddenly he skipped nimbly forward. "Excuse me while I climb a tree,"
he exclaimed, with a comical intonation. "There comes Lion and Tige,
and I 'm afraid it's another horrible case of 'They're After Me.'"

"Oh, they won't touch you while you 're with us," laughed Sadie. "Here
Lion, here Tige, good dogs."

"Well then, I think I 'd better establish my popularity with them both
right now," said Checkers; and with an air of confidence he kindly
patted and rubbed their heads in a way that dogs love, and made them
his friends.

Meanwhile Arthur arrived with the chairs. Sadie seated herself in one
of them, and motioning Checkers to place the other beside her, left the
hammock to Pert and Arthur.

"Did you have a good time in St. Louis, girls?" asked Arthur.

"Oh lovely!" they both exclaimed.

"We hated dreadfully to come home," continued Sadie, "but we simply had
to. Our clothes were in tatters. All the men were so sweet to us.
They kept something going on every minute."

Then followed an enthusiastic account of their good time, which was
tiresome to Checkers, and torture to Kendall.

"Pert, get your banjo," said Arthur, suddenly. "It seems like years
since I 've heard you play."

"It has n't but one string on it, Arthur," laughed Pert, "but I 'll fix
it up to-morrow, sure."

"I think it would sound very smooth out here in the moonlight, Miss
Barlow," suggested Checkers. "If you have some new strings I 'd be
glad to fix it up for you. I used to play a bit myself."

Sadie jumped up. "Come, let's go and get it," she said; and she and
Checkers went into the house.

She ushered Checkers into a room where Mr. Barlow, in shirt sleeves and
stocking feet, sat dozing in a rocking chair, while his wife, a
sweet-faced, grey-haired woman, worked button-holes in his new gingham
shirts.

Checkers felt drawn towards Mrs. Barlow. She reminded him strangely of
his mother. She had a smile like a benediction; but in her weary eyes
he could read a tragedy.

The banjo was one of Arthur's many gifts to Pert in days gone by, and
Checkers to