d hurriedly. "Going to keep
the dog, Meg?"

"If Mother doesn't care," answered Meg.

"Mother won't care," said Bobby, as the children were walking home. He
was very fond of his sister and tried to help her get whatever she
wanted. "Sam will let him sleep in the garage and perhaps he will be a
ratter. Sam likes a dog that is a ratter." Sam Layton was the man of
all work employed by Mr. Blossom.

Meg and Bobby took turns carrying the dog home, and Twaddles mourned
the fact that the kiddie car had not been brought along.

"I could have given him a ride," he explained. "What makes his tongue
hang out like that, Meg?"

"He's hot," said Meg. "And I think he wants a drink. Let's take him
around to the kitchen and give him some water."

As they neared the kitchen door some one spoke to them through the
screen.

"Meg! Meg! What's this you do be bringing home with ye? A dog? Most
likely it has the mange now, or some disease ye will all be catching.
Why can't ye ever take up with a nice, quiet cat? 'Tis no dog I'll be
having in me clean kitchen, mind that!"

Meg put the strange dog down on the gravel path. He swayed unsteadily
on three legs.

"Look, Norah," she said. "His leg is broken. Doctor Maynard set it.
And we only want to get him a drink of water. He's thirsty. He needn't
even come into the house."

Norah had a sharp tongue, but her heart was generous and sweet.

"The poor beastie!" she said, opening the screen door of her jealously
guarded kitchen. "Bring him in, Meg. He do be having fever, I suspect.
I'll get him a cup of water. Dear, dear!"

Making a soft, sympathetic, clucking noise, Norah hurried to get a cup
of cool water which the little dog lapped up greedily, standing on his
three good legs.

"Bobby said he thought Sam would let him sleep in the garage," said
Meg. "I suppose it is cooler there for him. All right, Norah, I'll
carry him out. But we want to show him to Mother."

"She went to meet your father--she and Sam with the car," Norah told
them. "And if I don't get my biscuits in, they'll be back before
there's a thing cooked to eat."

The children took the hint and hurried to the garage. Bobby and
Twaddles spread an old mat for the dog in a cool, dark corner, and
very glad he seemed to be to have a place to lie down.

"We'll bring you some supper," Meg promised, patting him kindly. "You
take a nap and forget 'bout your troubles."

"There's the car round front!" shouted Twaddles. "Bet you