“The poor thing is starved; let him eat all he wants and we wont touch him.”

The girls drew back with little clucks of interest and compassion, but I regret to say their charity was not rewarded as they expected, for, the minute the coast was clear, the dog marched boldly up, seized the handle of the pail in his mouth, and was off with it, galloping down the road at a great pace.  Shrieks arose from the children, especially Bab and Betty, basely bereaved of their new dinner-pail; but no one could follow the thief, for the bell rang, and in they went, so much excited that the boys rushed tumultuously forth to discover the cause.

By the time school was over the sun was out, and Bab and Betty hastened home to tell their wrongs and be comforted by mother, who did it most effectually.

“Nevermind, dears, I’ll get you another pail, if he doesn’t bring it back as he did before.  As it is too wet for you to play out, you shall go and see the old coach-house as I promised.  Keep on your rubbers and come along.”

This delightful prospect much assuaged their woe, and away they went, skipping gayly down the graveled path, while Mrs. Moss followed, with skirts well tucked up, and a great bunch of keys in her hand, for she lived at the Lodge and had charge of the premises.

The small door of the coach-house was fastened inside, but the large one had a padlock on it, and this being quickly unfastened, one half swung open, and the little girls ran in, too eager and curious even to cry out when they found themselves at last in possession of the long-coveted old carriage.  A dusty, musty concern enough, but it had a high seat, a door, steps that let down, and many other charms which rendered it most desirable in the eyes of children.

Bab made straight for the box and Betty for the door, but both came tumbling down faster than they went up, when, from the gloom of the interior came a shrill bark, and a low voice saying quickly:  “Down, Sancho, down!”

“Who is there?” demanded Mrs. Moss, in a stern tone, backing toward the door with both children clinging to her skirts.

The well-known curly white head was popped out of the broken window, and a mild whine seemed to say, “Don’t be alarmed, ladies; we wont hurt you.”

“Come out this minute, or I shall have to come to 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.