.

I stopped just about opposite the object and Sam sprang out.

"You, Byrd Crittenden, where did you come from?" I heard Sam demand of
the huddled bundle as he lifted it off the wall. It was attired in
scanty night-drawers and a short coat, and shivered as it stood, first
on one foot and then on the other.

"I ain't a-going to stay in no country with a hoot-owl, Sam. I'm going
to somewhere that a lady lives at, too." And the manful little voice
broke as the bunch shivered up against Sam's legs.

"Honest, Byrd, I thought you were asleep and wouldn't wake up till
morning. You never did before; but when I go--go gallivanting, have I
got to take you or not go?" And Sam's voice was bravely jocular.

"Bring him here to me, Sam," I cried out, quickly. "Come in here with
Betty, Byrd." And I cuddled his long, thin, little legs down under my
lap-blanket beyond the steering-gear. "You didn't forget Betty while she
was away, did you?" I asked, as we snuggled to each other and I started
the motor, while Dr. Chubb chuckled and Sam still stood in the middle of
the moonlit road as if uncertain what to do next.

"Yes, I forgot you," answered Byrd, candidly, though I had adored him
since his birth; "but I like to go see Mother Hayes and eat jelly-cake.
Can I go home with you?"

"No. I'm going as fast as I can with you to your home to keep you from
freezing to death," I answered, quickly adopting this recovered old
friend in the double capacity of an excuse and a chaperon. "Just sit
here in the seat by me and watch me get us all back to your house in a
hurry. You sit with the doctor, Sam."

"Oh no, Betty," answered Sam, quickly. "It is only a little over a mile
now, and the doctor and Byrd and I can walk it all right. You come out
in the morning and--"

"I'm going on with the doctor to those cows, Sam, and if you want to go
with us, get in quick," I answered, in a tone of voice I have used on
Sam once or twice in our lives with great effect. He hopped in and I
started at top speed.

"Hic-chew! Fine goer that," wheezed the doctor, and I didn't know
whether he alluded to me or Redwheels. But there was evident relish of
real pace in his voice, so I speeded up and shot away from the main road
into the hard dirt lane in good style.

"I'm a bird--I'm a bird!" shouted the picked fledgling at my side as we
whizzed under dark cedar boughs that waved funereal plumes over our
heads, and over stumps and stones with utter disregard of th