le he found at one
side of the road. "Wait a minute, Meg, till I see."

The twins watched with interest while Bobby smashed the pebble with
his hammer.

"Is it valuable?" demanded Twaddles.

Bobby brushed away the dust and gathered up the fragments. It was a
white pebble, and the broken bits were white, faintly veined with
yellow.

"I shouldn't wonder if it's very rare," hazarded the collector.
"Anyway, I'm going to take it and keep it."

He scooped the pieces into his bag, and then the four trotted briskly
along toward home.

"Well, goodness, this is luck!" cried a hearty voice, and an
automobile that had come up behind them stopped. It was the Oak Hill
grocery-store car, and kind, stout Mr. Hambert, one of the clerks, was
out making deliveries.

"I'm going over to Riceville," he said, leaning out to talk to the
children. "Don't you want to go along? Room for everybody, and I'll
have you home by supper time."

"Oh, Meg, let's," teased Dot, who dearly loved to go anywhere. "Mother
won't care. Come on."

"I have to practice," said Meg soberly. "But the rest of you can go.
I'll tell Mother so she won't worry."

"I'll go with you," declared Bobby. "It's my turn to fix up the rabbit
pen. Twaddles didn't half do it last week."

"Did too," retorted Twaddles, already scrambling into the seat
beside Mr. Hambert. "Guess I keep those rabbits as good as you do,
Bobby. You're always fussing."

Mr. Hambert held out a hand to Dot and pulled her into place beside
him.

"All right," he nodded kindly to Meg and Bobby. "You won't be sorry if
you do the work first and play afterward. Tell your mother I'll see
these youngsters safe home by half-past five."

"Do you suppose Dot looked clean enough to go to Riceville?" worried
Meg, after the fashion of older sisters, as the grocery car shot up
the road and took the turn to the right. "Like as not they'll go to
the hotel and all the boarders will see her."

"She's all right," said Bobby carelessly, "Here's the spring lot, Meg.
See how muddy the path is."

The children had been following a narrow path that ran through the
grass at the side of the road and which would presently meet the
concrete walk that marked the beginning of the town. The "spring lot"
was a marshy piece of land that was full of springs which fed and
kept puddles of mud moist through the dryest season. To-day,
although everywhere else the dust was fine and white, the path along
the spring lot was oozy