“Let’s go out to the barn and find the young-one ourselves,” said the Captain.  “Seems the simplest thing to do, don’t it?”

Mrs. Hobbs interrupted.

“You don’t need to go at all,” she declared.  “I’ll get her and bring her here.  Perhaps she ain’t there, anyway.”

“Well, if she ain’t there we can come back again.  Come on, boys.”

He led the way to the door.  The housekeeper would have accompanied them, but he prevented her doing so.

“Don’t you trouble yourself, ma’am,” he said.  “We’ll find her.  I’m older’n I used to be, but I ain’t so blind but what I can locate a barn without a spyglass.”

“It won’t be any trouble,” protested the lady.

“I know, but it might be.  We’ll go alone.”

When the three were in the back yard, and the discomfited housekeeper was watching them from the door, he added: 

“I don’t know why that woman rubs my fur the wrong way, but she does.  Isaiah Chase says he don’t like mosquitoes ’cause they get on his nerves.  I never thought I wore my nerves on the back of my neck, which is where Isaiah gets skeeter-bit mostly, but anyhow, wherever they be, that Hobbs woman bothers ’em.  There’s the barn, ain’t it?  Don’t look very heavenly, but it may seem that way after a spell in t’other place.  Now where’s the carriage room?”

The door of the carriage room was open, and they entered.  A buggy and the muslin draped surrey were there, but no living creature was in sight.  They listened, but heard nothing.

“Mary!  Mary-’Gusta!” called Baxter.  “Are you here?”

No answer.  And then, from beneath the cover of the surrey, appeared a fat tortoise-shell cat, who jumped lightly to the floor, yawned, stretched, and blinked suspiciously at the visitors.

“Humph!” grunted Captain Shadrach.  “There’s one stowaway, anyhow.  Maybe there’s another; I’ve had ’em come aboard in pairs.”

The Judge walked over to the surrey, and raised the cover.  From behind it came a frightened little squeal.

“Oh, there you are!” said Baxter.  “Mary-’Gusta, is that you?”

There was a rustle, a sob, and then a timid voice said, chokingly, “Yes, sir.”

“Come out,” said the Judge, kindly.  “Come out; here are some friends who want to meet you.”

Another sob and then:  “I—­I don’t want to.”

“Oh, yes, you do.  We won’t hurt you.  We only want to see you and talk with you, that’s all.  Come, that’s a good girl.”

“I—­I ain’t a good girl.”

“Never mind.  We want to see you, anyway.  I guess you’re not very bad.”

“Yes, I—­I am.  Is—­is Mrs. Hobbs there?”

“No.  Come now, please.”

A moment’s wait, then, from beneath the cover, appeared a small foot and leg, the latter covered by a black stocking.  The foot wiggled about, feeling for the step.  It found it, the cover was thrown aside and Mary-’Gusta appeared, a pathetic little figure, with rumpled hair and tear-stained cheeks.  Rose and Rosette, the two dolls, were hugged in her arms.