old your dress," he directed. "I'll lift him. There!"

The little dog was a heavy armful for Meg, but she held him bravely.

"I'm afraid of strange dogs myself," declared the conductor, plainly
relieved that some one else had tended to the dog. "What are you going
to do with him, little girl?"

"Take him to the doctor's," announced Meg. "Aren't we, Bobby?"

"Of course," affirmed Bobby.

He and Meg, carrying the dog, went back to where Twaddles and Dot were
waiting. The twins were used to waiting patiently while the older
children investigated sudden alarms and excitements.

"Let me pat him," begged Dot. "He's pretty, isn't he? Is he hurt,
Meg? What are you going to do with him?"

"Take him to Doctor Maynard's," said Meg briefly. "I guess he's in,
'cause it's after four o'clock."

Kind, jolly Doctor Maynard was in. He was the Blossoms' family doctor,
and knew the children very well. He didn't seem a bit surprised to
have the four of them walk into his consulting room.

"Now, who's sick?" he demanded, pretending to be anxious. "Don't tell
me Dot needs gingerbread pills? Or has Twaddles been eating too much
layer cake? Dear, dear, you can't all have the whooping cough!"

Meg smiled, a little watery smile. Tears stood in her blue eyes.

"It's this," she said, spreading out her dress on the couch so that
the doctor could see the dog. "I think his leg is broken."

Doctor Maynard sat down on the couch and the children crowded around
him. The brown eyes of the dog watched him intently as though he knew
that help was at hand.

"Yes, it's broken," said the doctor gently, after feeling of the slim
little hind leg that dragged so uselessly. "But we can mend it, Meg. I
have splints right here."

While the others watched, Doctor Maynard tore off long white strips of
cloth and selected two wooden splints. These he placed one on each
side of the broken leg and then directed Meg to wind the strips firmly
around while he held the splints in place. This was to make the leg
grow strong and straight again.

"Doesn't it hurt?" demanded Twaddles curiously.

"Yes, it hurts him," admitted Doctor Maynard, stroking the head of the
little dog. "But animals are splendid patients, and they seldom
complain. Now, then, our little friend is about as good as new, except
that he will have to go on three legs for a bit."

The telephone rang just then and it proved to be a call for the
doctor.

"I'll have to run along, chicks," he sai