"Oh, I know—I know! It was you, Daddy," she cried, running from her chair to kiss the back of his head.

"Come, dear, sit down! William, if you were that sort of a boy what can we expect of Billy? Hark—isn't that his whistle?" She stepped eagerly to the door, the girls close behind her.

"He's all right—he always whistles when he's happy!"

"It is he!" cried Mrs. Lee, going down the steps. "And what in the world is he bringing with him!"

For Billy, covered with dust, guiding his bicycle with one hand, was walking leisurely up the road leading with an air of pride edged slightly by a disturbing doubt, a dirty, weary-eyed dog!

"A dog—of all things!" cried Barbara,

"Where'd you get it?" demanded Peggy eagerly.

The family stood on the bottom step and eyed Billy's trea. . . Read More