iew!" said Deborah, from under her coat.

"Oh, excuse me, cat," he said, as he set Clematis down. "I forgot
you were there too."

The woman laughed, as she took out a cream cake, a cookie with nuts
on it, and a doughnut.

"May I eat them now?" asked Clematis, as she took the bag.

"You start right in, and if that's not enough, you can have more.
But don't forget the cat."

Jim Cunneen laughed with the baker woman, while Clematis began to
eat the doughnut, as they started out.

Before long they came to a brick building that had big doors.

"Here we are," said the policeman. They turned, and went inside.

There another policeman was sitting at a desk behind a railing.

"Well, who comes here?" asked the policeman at the desk.

"That is more than I know," replied Jim Cunneen. "I guess she's lost
out of the flower show. She says her name is Clematis."

Clematis said nothing. Her mouth was full of cream cake now, and a
little cream was running over her fingers.

Deborah was silent also. She was eating the last crumbs of the
doughnut.

"Is that all you could find out?" The other man looked at Clematis.

"She says she has no father and no mother. Her cat is named Deborah.
That is all she told me."

"Oh, well, I guess you scared her, Jim. Let me ask her. I'll find
out."

The new policeman smiled at Clematis. "Come on now, sister," he
said. "Tell us where you live. That's a good girl."

Clematis reached up one hand and took hold of her friend's big
finger. She looked at the new policeman a moment.

"If you didn't know where you lived, how could you tell anyone?" she
said.

Jim Cunneen laughed. He liked to feel her little hand.

"See how scared she is of me," he said. "We are old friends now."

Again they asked the little girl all the questions they could think
of. But it was of no use. She could not tell them where she lived.
She would not tell them very much about herself.

At last the Captain came in. They told him about this queer little
girl.

He asked her questions also. Then he said:

"We shall have to send her to the Home. If anyone claims her he can
find her there."

So Clematis and Deborah were tucked into the big station wagon, and
Jim Cunneen took her to the Home, where lost children are sheltered
and fed.

CHAPTER II

THE CHILDREN'S HOME

As they climbed the steps leading to the Home, Clematis looked up at
the policeman.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"This is the