Such a shabby, tired-looking couple as they were!  Bab with a face as red as a lobster and streaked with tears, shoes white with dust, play-frock torn at the gathers, something bundled up in her apron, and one shoe down at the heel as if it hurt her.  Sancho lapped eagerly, with his eyes shut; all his ruffles were gray with dust, and his tail hung wearily down, the tassel at half-mast, as if in mourning for the master whom he had come to find.  Bab still held the strap, intent on keeping her charge safe though she lost herself; but her courage seemed to be giving out, as she looked anxiously up and down the road, seeing no sign of the three familiar figures she had been following as steadily as a little Indian on the war-trail.

“Oh, Sanch, what shall I do if they don’t come along?  We must have gone by them somewhere, for I don’t see any one that way, and there isn’t any other road to the circus, seems to me.”

Bab spoke as if the dog could understand and answer, and Sancho looked as if he did both, for he stopped drinking, pricked up his ears, and, fixing his sharp eyes on the grass above him, gave a suspicious bark.

“It’s only squirrels; don’t mind, but come along and be good, for I’m so tired I don’t know what to do!” sighed Bab, trying to pull him after her as she trudged on, bound to see the outside of that wonderful tent, even if she never got in.

But Sancho had heard a soft chirrup, and with a sudden bound twitched the strap away, sprang up the bank, and landed directly on Ben’s back as he lay peeping over.  A peal of laughter greeted him, and having got the better of his master in more ways than one, he made the most of the advantage by playfully worrying him as he kept him down, licking his face in spite of his struggles, burrowing in his neck with a ticklish nose, snapping at his buttons, and yelping joyfully, as if it was the best joke in the world to play hide-and-seek for four long miles.

Before Ben could quiet him, Bab came climbing up the bank with such a funny mixture of fear, fatigue, determination, and relief in her dirty little face that the boys could not look awful if they tried.

“How dared you come after us, miss?” demanded Sam, as she looked calmly about her and took a seat before she was asked.

“Sanch would come after Ben; I couldn’t make him go home, so I had to hold on till he was safe here, else he’d be lost, and then Ben would feel bad.”

The cleverness of that excuse tickled the boys immensely, and Sam tried again, while Ben was getting the dog down and sitting on him.

“Now you expect to go to the circus, I suppose.”

“Course I do.  Ben said he didn’t mind paying if I could get there without bothering him, and I have, and I’ll go home alone.  I aint afraid.  Sanch will take care of me, if you wont,” answered Bab, stoutly.

“What do you suppose your mother will say to you?” asked Ben, feeling much reproached by her last words.