acity of guardian felt his responsibility
keenly, saw no harm in Betty's riding it alone. It was morning, and
she would have lunch with the Watterbys and come back in the early
afternoon. Everything looked all right, and he bade her a cheerful
good-bye.

"Isn't it great, Clover, to be out for fun?" Betty asked, as the
horse snuffed the fresh air in great delight. "I guess you thought
you were going to have to stay in the stable, or be turned out to
grass like an old lady, for the rest of your life, didn't you?"

Clover snorted, and settled down into her favorite canter. Betty
enjoyed the sense of motion and the rush of the wind, and horse and
girl had a glorious hour before they drew rein at the Watterby gate.

"Well, bless her heart, did she come to see us at last!" cried
Grandma Watterby, hurrying down to greet her. "Emma!" she called.
"Emma! Just see who's come to stay with us."

The old woman was greatly disappointed when Betty explained that she
must go back after lunch, dinner, as the noon meal was made at the
Watterby table, but the girl was not to be persuaded to stay over
night. She had promised Bob.

Every one, from Grandma Watterby to the Prices, had an innocent
curiosity, wholly friendly, to hear about Bob and his aunts, and
Betty was glad to gratify it. She told the whole story, only omitting
the portion that dealt with the death of Bob's mother in the
poorhouse, rightly reasoning that the Misses Saunders would want to
keep this fact from old neighbors and friends. The household rejoiced
with Bob that he had found his kindred, and Grandma Watterby
expressed the sentiments of all when she said that "Bob will take
care of them two old women and be a prop to 'em for their remaining
years."

Ki, the Indian, had the fox skin cured, and proudly showed it to
Betty. She was delighted with the silky pelt and ran upstairs to put
it in her trunk while Ki saddled Clover for the return trip. She knew
that a good furrier would make her a stunning neck-piece for the
winter from the fur.

It was slightly after half past one when Betty started for the
Saunders farm, and as the day was warm and the patches of shade few
and far between, she let Clover take her own time. In a lonely
stretch of road, out of sight of any house or building, two men
stepped quietly from some bushes at the side of the road, and laid
hands on Clover's bridle. Betty recognized them as the two men
dressed in gray whom Bob had followed on the