t weary miles of the long journey slid by.

They reached the outskirts of Hammerville in the late afternoon, and
stopped at the very first house to enquire where Dr. Plumstead lived.

The woman who opened the door to them declared that she did not know.

"I don't hold with doctors, and physic, and that sort of stuff, so I
don't know nothing about them," she said ungraciously, and then shut the
door in their faces.

"Disagreeable old thing; I hope that she will be ill and want the doctor
very soon," said Billykins, shaking an indignant fist in the direction
of the closed door.

"That is very uncharitable of you," said Sylvia, "and besides, she does
not look as if she would be at all a good paying patient, and so it
would only be a bit more drudgery for dear Father, for, of course, a
doctor must go to everyone who has need of him, whether the patient can
pay or not."

"Then I shall not be a doctor, for I don't want to do things for people
who can't pay me," said Don; and then he ran up to a pleasant-faced
girl, who was weeding the garden of the next house, and asked her if she
could tell him where Dr. Plumstead lived.

"Why, yes, he has got a house on the Icksted Road, that is on the Pig
Hill side of the town," she said, standing up to survey the wagon and as
many of its occupants as chanced to be visible.

"Is it far?" demanded Don anxiously.

"Oh, somewhere about a mile! You must turn to the left when you have
passed Dan Potter's saloon; that is right in the middle of the town, so
you can't miss it. What do you want the doctor for? Is anyone bad?"

"We have come to live with him; we are his children, you know,"
explained Don, with the engaging frankness which he could display
sometimes, although as a rule he was more reserved with strangers than
Rumple or Billykins.

"His children? I didn't know that he had got any!" exclaimed the girl,
staring harder than ever at the wagon, although at present there was not
much to see, except Ducky perched astride on the big horse that Rumple
was leading, for Sylvia had retired under shelter of the tilt to make
some sort of a toilet in honour of reaching the end of the journey, and
Nealie was still ministering to the wants of Rupert to the best of her
ability.

"That is not wonderful, because, you see, we have been living in
England. But I must hurry on, and I will come to see you another day.
There are seven of us, and we are just on the tiptoe of expectation
about wha