ly Burd Alling discovered a figure planted on the gravel
behind him. He swept off his cap in an elaborate bow, and cried:

"We have company! Introduce me, Amy--Jess. This young lady----"

"Smarty!" croaked a hoarse voice. "I don't want to be introducted to
nobody. I want to know if you've seen Bertha."

"Big Bertha?" began Burd, who was as much determined on joking as Amy
herself.

But Jessie Norwood, her attention drawn to the freckle-faced child who
stood there so composedly, motioned Burd to halt. She approached and
in her usual kindly manner asked what the strange child wanted.

It really was difficult to look soberly at the little thing. She might
have been twelve years old, but she was so slight and undernourished
looking that it was hard to believe she had reached that age. She had
no more color than putty. And her sharp little face was so bespatted
with freckles that one could scarcely see what its real expression
was.

"Bertha who?" Jessie asked quietly. "What Bertha are you looking
for?"

"Cousin Bertha. She's an orphan like me," said the freckled little
girl. "I ain't got anybody that belongs to me but Bertha; and Bertha
ain't got anybody that belongs to her but me."

Burd and Amy were still inclined to be amused. But Darry Drew took his
cue from Jessie, if he did not find a sympathetic cord touched in his
own nature by the child's speech and her forlorn appearance.

For she was forlorn. She wore no denim uniform, such as Amy had
mentioned on a previous occasion as being the mark of the usual
"orphan." But it was quite plain that the freckle-faced girl had
nobody to care much for her, or about her.

"I wish you would explain a little more, dear," said Jessie, kindly.
"Why did you come here to ask for your Cousin Bertha?"

"'Cause I'm asking at every house along this street. I told Mrs. Foley
I would, and she said I was a little fool," and the child made the
statement quite as a matter of course.

"Who is Mrs. Foley?"

"She's the lady I help. When Mom died Mrs. Foley lived in the next
tenement. She took me. She brought me out here to Dogtown when she
moved."

"Why," breathed Amy, with a shudder, "she's one of those awful Dogtown
children."

"Put a stopper on that, Amy!" exclaimed Darry, promptly.

But the freckle-faced girl heard her. She glared at the older
girl--the girl so much better situated than herself. Her pale eyes
snapped.

"You don't haf to touch me," she said sharply. "I won'