whine seemed to say, "Don't be alarmed, ladies; we
won't hurt you." Come out this minute, or I shall have to come and get
you," called Mrs. Moss, growing very brave all of a sudden as she
caught sight of a pair of small, dusty shoes under the coach.
"Yes, 'm, I'm coming, as fast as I can," answered a meek voice, as what
appeared to be a bundle of rags leaped out of the dark, followed by the
poodle, who immediately sat down at the bare feet of his owner with a
watchful air, as if ready to assault any one who might approach too
near.
"Now, then, who are you, and how did you get here?" asked Mrs. Moss,
trying to speak sternly, though her motherly eyes were already full of
pity, as they rested on the forlorn little figure before her.
CHAPTER III
: BEN
"Please, 'm, my name is Ben Brown, and I'm travellin'."
"Where are you going?"
"Anywheres to get work."
"What sort of work can you do?"
"All kinds. I'm used to horses."
"Bless me! such a little chap as you?
"I'm twelve, ma'am, and can ride any thing on four legs;" and the small
boy gave a nod that seemed to say, "Bring on your Cruisers. I'm ready
for 'em."
"Haven't you got any folks?" asked Mrs. Moss, amused but still anxious,
for the sunburnt face was very thin, the eyes hollow with hunger or
pain, and the ragged figure leaned on the wheel as if too weak or weary
to stand alone.
"No, 'm, not of my own; and the people I was left with beat me so, I --
run away." The last words seemed to bolt out against his will as if the
woman's sympathy irresistibly won the child's confidence.
"Then I don't blame you. But how did you get here?"
"I was so tired I couldn't go any further, and I thought the folks up here
at the big house would take me in. But the gate was locked, and I was
so discouraged, I jest laid down outside and give up."
"Poor little soul, I don't wonder," said Mrs. Moss, while the children
looked deeply interested at mention of their gate.
The boy drew a long breath, and his eyes began to twinkle in spite of
his forlorn state as he went on, while the dog pricked up his ears at
mention of his name: --
"While I was restin' I heard some one come along inside, and I peeked,
and saw them little girls playin'. The vittles looked so nice I couldn't
help wantin' 'em; but I didn't take nothin', -- it was Sancho, and he took
the cake for me."
Bab and Betty gave a gasp and stared reproachfully at the poodle, who
half closed his eyes with a meek, unconscious look that was very droll.
"And you made him put it back?" cried Bab.
"No; I did it myself. Got over the gate when you was racin' after
Sancho, and then clim' up on the porch and hid," said the boy with a
grin.
"And you laughed?" asked Bab.
"Yes."
"And sneezed?" added Betty.
"Yes."
"And threw down the roses?" cried both.
"Yes; and you liked 'em, didn't you?"
"Course we did! What made you hide?" said Bab.
"I wasn't fit to be seen," muttered Ben, glancing at his tatters as if he'd
like to dive out of sight into the dark coach again.
"How came you here?" demanded Mrs. Moss, suddenly remembering
her responsibility.
"I heard 'em talk about a little winder and a shed, and when they'd gone
I found it and come in. The glass was broke, and I only pulled the nail
out. I haven't done a mite of harm sleepin' here two nights. I was so
tuckered out I couldn't go on nohow, though I tried a-Sunday."
"And came back again?
"Yes, 'm; it was so lonesome in the rain, and this place seemed kinder
like home, and I could hear 'em talkin' outside, and Sanch he found
vittles, and I was pretty comfortable."
"Well, I never!" ejaculated Mrs. Moss, whisking up a corner of her
apron to wipe her eyes, for the thought of the poor little fellow alone
there for two days and nights with no bed but musty straw, no food but
the scraps a dog brought him, was too much for her. "Do you know
what I'm going to do with you?" she asked, trying to look calm and
cool, with a great tear running down her wholesome red cheek, and a
smile trying to break out at the corners of her lips.
"No, ma'am, and I dunno as I care. Only don't be hard on Sanch; he's
been real good to me, and we 're fond of one
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