?" asked
Rumple, when at length the separating was done for the night and both
girls were busy clearing up.

"No, we haven't; but Bella and a friend are going to walk out to the
road after work to see if they can find out anything for you," said the
stylish sister, and Bella, the red-cheeked one, gurgled and choked with
amazing enjoyment, and said:

"My friend indeed! La, Amy, how neatly you always put things!"

They all went in to supper after that, but Rumple, who had eaten so many
scones and so much butter that he would not be hungry for a long time to
come, sat on the step of the veranda and stared out at the darkening
night, feeling a little homesick for the others.

Then away in the distance he heard the slow rumble of wagon wheels, and
a moment later a clear voice rang out on the still air:

"Steady, Rocky, steady, old fellow, or you will upset the whole show
into the ditch!"

"It is Nealie!" yelled Rumple in an ecstasy of joy. "Mrs. Warner, our
wagon is coming, for I can hear my sister Nealie calling to the horse."

"Now that is downright good news. Come, bustle about, girls, and get
some more supper ready, for the poor things will be nearly starved by
this time, I should think!" cried the hospitable mistress of the farm.

CHAPTER X

A Fright at Night

"There he is, there he is!" squealed Ducky in the shrillest of trebles
as Rumple started to run along the dusty track up which the wagon was
advancing.

"Oh, you blessed boy, how could you have the heart to give us such a
fright?" cried Sylvia, who had been walking at the side of the wagon and
now rushed forward to fling her arms round Rumple and hug him until he
was nearly smothered.

"I'm awfully sorry, truly I am, but I didn't know anything about it; and
I tell you I just felt bad when I woke up in Mrs. Warner's parlour and
she told me that she had picked me up in the road and thought at first
that I was dead," explained Rumple, with an air of gloomy importance;
for in spite of the sorrow he felt at having given the others so much
anxiety there was a thrill of satisfaction at having figured in such a
fashion. To be picked up for dead had a good sound with it, and might
serve as quite a big incident when he wrote the story of his life.

"Oh, my dear, I will never let you sit upon the rack out of sight again
unless you are tied fast to the seat!" cried Nealie, who by this time
had jumped down from the wagon and was hugging him in place of