l without a single clue as to the direction she
had taken, was not unlike looking for the proverbial needle in the
haymow. Accordingly, Peggy followed without protest, while the other
girls, relieved by the mere suggestion of a definite program, hurried
into the house and up the stairs to Aunt Abigail's room. A moment later
they reappeared, each bearing something selected from Aunt Abigail's
belongings.

The various articles were deposited in a circle about Hobo, as if he had
been a heathen idol, and Aunt Abigail's worsted shawl and silk work-bag,
votive offerings. Hobo did not in the least understand the meaning of
this new game, but he was pleased to find himself the centre of
attention, and thumped his tail against the porch with a sound like
persistent knocking.

"I don't believe I'd give him this," exclaimed Peggy, picking up the
work-bag and sniffing thoughtfully. "It smells so strong of peppermint
that it's likely to mislead him."

"She always carried peppermint drops in that bag," said Amy. The use of
the past tense was such an unconscious admission of fearing the worst,
that the girls looked at one another aghast. And then Peggy, with a
desperate realization that something must be done, and that immediately,
seized the worsted shawl, and knelt down before Hobo. "Find her, good
fellow," she urged, holding the wrap close to the dog's nose.

Over the fleecy mound, Hobo regarded Peggy with bright, intelligent
eyes. "He's smelling of it," said a thrilled voice in the background.

"Yes, and he looks as if he understood," cried another voice. "See how
his eyes shine."

Even Peggy's doubts were vanishing before Hobo's air of absorbed
attention. "Find her, Hobo," she insisted. "Find Aunt Abigail."

The little group stood breathless, while Hobo descended the steps, and
nose to earth, followed the winding gravelled path for half its
distance. Then taking an abrupt turn, he struck off across the lawn.
Their hearts in their mouths the girls hurried after. Peggy heard
Priscilla just behind her, saying that it was perfectly wonderful.
Priscilla had always retained a trace of her first disapproval of Hobo's
admission into the family circle, and even at that anxious moment, Peggy
felt a little thrill of satisfaction over the fact that the wisdom of
her charity had been vindicated.

Hobo ambled across the lawn, stopped abruptly at the foot of the
pear-tree, and there seated himself, looking up into the branches, and
wa