m the last spring we were in
Centerville."

"You did? Why, I thought I got yours. Who hung mine?"

"Gertie. I guess she won't mind if I tell--it's been so long."

Sherm whistled. After a little he inquired rather sheepishly:

"Say, Chicken Little, you don't like Carol best now, do you?"

Chicken Little looked up hastily. She was disgusted to feel her face
growing hot. "Why, Sherm--I haven't seen Carol for four years. I don't
know what I should think of him now." Then, seeing the hurt look in
Sherm's eyes, she added: "I guess I'd have to like him pretty awfully
well, if I did."

* * * * *

Captain Clarke was gone two weeks and he had added only two facts to
those they had been able to piece together. He had accidentally run
across an old friend. This friend had supposed him dead all these years,
and could scarcely believe his own eyes when he saw him. From him, he
learned that his wife had also believed him dead before she would
consent to leave New York. This friend told him he had suspected that
her money was running low and had offered to help her, but she refused.
He thought, after hearing the Captain's story, that she must have had
barely enough left to take her home, and that this explained why she was
walking to the wharf instead of taking a hack, the day she was run down.

Sherm stayed on with the Morton's until the following week when he set
out with his new-found father to visit his adopted family. Youth
recovers readily from its sorrows. It was almost the old Sherm who
raised his cap to Chicken Little as the train got under steam and slid
away from the long wooden platform.

"O dear!" she exclaimed, "seems to me I haven't done anything this whole
year but see somebody off. I think it ought to be my turn pretty soon."

"Have a little patience, Humbug," said her father, "your turn is almost
here. It is hard for me to realize how fast my baby is growing up."

Chicken Little liked the sound of those words--"growing up." There was
something magical about them. They lingered in her mind for days.

One hot Sunday afternoon late in June, she arrayed herself in an old
blue lawn dress of Marian's that trailed a full inch on the floor at
every step. She coiled her hair high on her head and tucked in a rose
coquettishly above her ear. Highly gratified with the result of her
efforts, she swept downstairs in a most dignified manner to astonish the
family. Unfortunately