The dog crouched, whined and thumped the earth with a contrite tail.  He did not need the restraining hand of the hired man now.

“Make friends,” ordered the farmer.  The dog approached the girls.

“Oh—­don’t!” begged Amy.

“He wouldn’t hurt a fly,” bragged the farmer.  “I can’t account for his meanness.”

“It was them burrs,” affirmed the hired man.

“Mebby so.  Wa’al, young ladies, come in and make yourselves t’ hum!  Behave, Nero!” for now the dog was getting too friendly, leaping up and trying to solicit caresses from the girls.  “That’s th’ way with him, one minute he’s up to some mischief, an’ th’ next he’s beggin’ your, pardon.  I hope you’re not hurt, miss,” and he looked anxiously at Amy.

“No, not at all,” she assured him, with a smile that was brave and winning.  “I was only frightened, that’s all.”

“I’m glad of that.  I’ll have t’ tie that dog up, I guess,” and he threw a little clod of earth at the now cringing animal, not hitting him, however.

“Oh, don’t hurt him,” pleaded Betty.

“Hurt him!  He wouldn’t do that, miss!” exclaimed the hired man, who now had to defend himself from the over-zealous affections of the dog.  “He’s too fond of him.  Nero isn’t a bad sort generally, only some of the boys worried him.”

The girls, with the farmer and his man in the lead, walked toward the house, the woman hurrying on ahead to set more places at the table.

“I’m afraid we’re troubling you too much,” protested Betty.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” the farmer assured her.  “And I owe you something on account of my dog’s actions.”

“But really, ought we to stay?” asked Grace.  “It’s getting dark, Betty, and your aunt—­”

“Say, young ladies!” exclaimed the farmer, “I’ll fix that all right.  As soon as you have a bite to eat I’ll hitch up and drive you over to Rockford, to Bill Palmer’s.”

“Oh!” began Betty, “we couldn’t think—­”

She stopped, for she did not know what to say.  Truly, it was quite a dilemma in which they found themselves, and they must stay somewhere that night.  To remain at a strange farm house was out of the question.  Perhaps this was the simplest way after all.

“It won’t be any trouble at all,” the farmer assured her.  “I’ve got a fast team and a three-seated carriage.  I’ll have you over there in no time.”

“Then perhaps we’d better not stop for supper,” said Mollie.  “Your aunt might be worrying, Betty, and—­”

“We’ll telephone her!” exclaimed the farmer.  “I’ve got a ’phone—­lots of us have around here—­and I can let her know all about it.  Or you can talk to her yourself,” he added.

So it was arranged; and soon Betty was talking to her anxious relative over the wire.  Then, after a bountiful supper, which the girls very much enjoyed, the farmer hitched up his fine team, and soon they were on their way to Mrs. Palmer’s.  The drive was not a long one.