' afther a
spalpeen that I'd like to lay me whip over," said Pat, gruffly, as Ben
came along, having left the barrow in the shed.

"Don't you wish you could? You needn't wait for me; I'll come when I'm
ready," answered Ben, dodging round the chaise, bound not to mind Pat,
if he spent the night by the road-side in consequence.

"Bedad, and I wont then. It's lively ye are; but four legs is better
than two, as ye'll find this night, me young mon!"

With that he whipped up and was off before Bab could say a word to
persuade Ben to humble himself for the sake of a ride. She lamented
and Pat chuckled, both forgetting what an agile monkey the boy was,
and as neither looked back, they were unaware that Master Ben was
hanging on behind among the straps and springs, making derisive
grimaces at his unconscious foe through the little glass in the
leathern back.

At the lodge gate Ben jumped down to run before with whoops of naughty
satisfaction, which brought the anxious waiters to the door in a
flock; so Pat could only shake his fist at the exulting little rascal
as he drove away, leaving the wanderers to be welcomed as warmly as if
they were a pair of model children.

Mrs. Moss had not been very much troubled after all; for Cy had told
her that Bab went after Ben, and Billy had lately reported her safe
arrival among them, so, mother-like, she fed, dried, and warmed the
runaways, before she scolded them.

Even then, the lecture was a mild one, for when they tried to tell the
adventures which to them seemed so exciting, not to say tragical, the
effect astonished them immensely, as their audience went into gales of
laughter, especially at the wheelbarrow episode, which Bab insisted on
telling, with grateful minuteness, to Ben's confusion. Thorny shouted,
and even tender-hearted Betty forgot her tears over the lost dog to
join in the familiar melody when Bab mimicked Pat's quotation from
Mother Goose.

"We must not laugh any more, or these naughty children will think they
have done something very clever in running away," said Miss Celia,
when the fun subsided, adding soberly, "I _am_ displeased, but I will
say nothing, for I think Ben is already punished enough."

"Guess I am," muttered Ben, with a choke in his voice as he glanced
toward the empty mat where a dear curly bunch used to lie with a
bright eye twinkling out of the middle of it.

CHAPTER XV.

BEN'S RIDE.

Great was the mourning for Sancho, because hi