Of these he ate until he cared for no more, and then, like a full-fledged tramp, strode down the dusty road.

“I ain’t goin’ ter be ketched ’fore their old school begins, fer if I am ketched, they’ll make me begin with the others, an’ I ain’t a goin’ ter, but after its goin’ on two weeks, then I’ll be safe.  They won’t bother me then, an’ I’ll hang around the schoolhouse an’ make things lively!”

He smiled as he muttered this threat, and his black eyes twinkled.  Oh, yes, he would be delighted to play any outrageous trick that might startle both teacher and pupils.

He did not know that during all the season, those who intended that every child in town should be educated, strove with the same vigilance as at the beginning of the year.

“Gyp’s run away!”

“Why, Harry Grafton, he’s always running away from somewhere, or from someone,” said Leslie.

“Oh, that’s when he’s been stealing things,” said Harry, “but this time it’s different.  He ran away from the shanty, and I know, because I heard his mother asking a policeman to find him, and she said he’d been gone a week!”

“Wherever he is, he won’t stay long,” said Leslie, “he’ll come running home.”

“Why will he?” questioned Harry.  “If he’s run away, it’s because he’s tired of that old shanty, and I should think he would be!”

“We’d be tired of it,” said Leslie, “but he’s used to it, and he’ll come back, just because it’s his home.”

“P’raps he will,” agreed Harry, “but I wouldn’t think that place would seem like home even to Gyp!”

“I’m going up to play with Princess Polly,” said Leslie, “and I’ll tell her about Gyp.  She’s afraid of him, and I know she wouldn’t want him to run away, but she may feel safer because he has.”

“He wouldn’t dare harm her,” said Harry, with flashing eyes, “for he knows we boys wouldn’t stand that.  We’d fight for Princess Polly!”

“And she’s the only thing I’d want to see you fight for.  Mama says that boys who quarrel are vulgar, but it would be right to do anything for Princess Polly.  She’s the dearest girl in the world,” said Leslie, “and Rose Atherton is next!”

“Yes,” said Harry, “Rose is next.”

Quite unaware that any of her playmates were near, Polly ran out into the sunshine, and taking a long bit of trailing vine for a skipping rope, tripped along the driveway.

“Oh, you’re not a very nice rope,” she said, “but you’re a pretty make-believe rope.  Here, Mortimer!  You can have this for a string.”

She ran along, dragging the vine, and Sir Mortimer, glad of a playmate, raced after it, as much excited as if he had been a kitten.

   “We’ll dance and play
    The livelong day;
     Ah, happy friends are we. 
    With summer flowers
    And shady bowers
     And young hearts light and free,”

sang Polly, and Leslie and Harry from their seat on the top of the stone wall, near the gate-way, echoed the last line;