ther, for any reason,
isn't willing for you to keep it, you may send it back and I will not
be offended."

Bobby put the money away carefully, down deep in his pocket, and then
Mr. Mendam said he was thirsty and wouldn't they go with him to the
drug store and have an ice-cream soda?

"I never saw a day too cold for ice-cream soda--did you?" he added,
smiling.

"We promised Sam to stay here till he came for us," Meg explained
regretfully, for she was very fond of soda.

"He won't be long, will he?" said Mr. Mendam. "I'll wait with you."

And wait he did, till the sound of jingling sleigh bells announced that
Sam was at the door. The sleigh was filled with boxes, tied on to keep
them from falling off, and there was just a little space left for the
children.

Sam was surprised to see them come down the steps with a stranger with
them, and more surprised to hear that he was the owner of the glove and
that the "reward" was to go to Paul Jordan and that the four little
Blossoms had been invited to the drug store for a treat.

"Things just seem to happen to you, wherever you are," said Sam. "I
wish I could lead as exciting a life as you do."

Mr. Mendam insisted that he must come with them and Sam tied the horse
and went. The four little Blossoms had a wonderful time, choosing
their favorite sodas and for once no one said the twins were too young
to have whatever they chose. Mr. Mendam wandered off before they had
all quite finished and when he came back, he had a pile of small boxes
under his arm.

"Something to eat on the way home," he said, handing a box to each
child.

"Candy!" cried Twaddles blissfully. "It's just like Christmas!"

Sam had tied the sleigh in front of the drug store and when they came
out, Mr. Mendam helped him tuck the children in between the boxes and
the seat and cover them up carefully.

"I wouldn't have lost that glove for a good deal," he told them, as Sam
was ready to start. "I value gifts from my daughter highly. Good-bye
and good luck to your fair."

"Oh, wait!" Dot wailed as Sam drove off. "Wait a minute, Sam; I want
to ask him something!"

CHAPTER XVIII

AT LAST THE FAIR

"We're late now," said the long-suffering Sam. "What do you want to
ask Mr. Mendam, Dot? Hurry up."

Mr. Mendam was still standing on the curb and Dot leaned out of the
sleigh to call to him.

"I wish I could know who the sled belongs to," she said earnestly. "If
a little girl owns it