Who can be calling this time of night?" asked Mother Blake, in
surprise.

Hal and Mab wondered too.

CHAPTER III

UPSIDE DOWN BEANS

"Let's wait and see who it is, Hal," whispered Mab to her brother as they
stood on the stairs.

"Maybe it's somebody come to find out about a garden," added the little
boy. "Daddy knows lots about how to make things grow, and maybe, on
account of the war, everybody's got to plant corn and beans and things."

"I don't like war and soldiers," spoke Mab, while Daddy Blake went to the
front door. "I don't care when you play soldier, and make believe shoot
your pop gun, but I don't like REAL guns. Maybe this is somebody come to
tell Daddy to go to war."

"I hope not!" exclaimed Hal.

When Daddy Blake opened the door the children heard some one saying:

"I guess this little fellow belongs to you, Mr. Blake. I found him over in
my garden, digging away. Maybe he was planting a bone, thinking he could
grow some roast beef," and a man's laugh was heard. Then came a sharp
little bark.

"Oh, it's Roly-Poly!" cried Hal.

[Illustration]

"He must have run away and we didn't miss him 'cause we talked so much
about the garden," added Mab. "I wonder where he was?"

"Yes, that's my children's dog," said Mr. Blake to the man who had brought
home Roly-Poly. "So he was in your garden; eh?"

"Well, yes, in the place where I'm going to make a garden. My name is
Porter, I live next door. Only moved in last week and we haven't gotten
acquainted yet."

"That's right," said Mr. Blake. "Well, I'm glad to know you, Mr. Porter.
Hal and Mab will be pleased to have Roly-Poly back, I'm also glad to know
you're going to have a garden. I'm going to start my two youngsters with
one, and if Roly-Poly comes over, and digs out your seeds, let me know and
I'll keep him shut up."

"I will, and you do the same with my chickens. They're bad for scratching
in a garden, though I plan to keep them in their own yard. So your boy and
girl are going to have gardens; are they?"

"Yes. I want them to learn all they can about such things."

"I've got a boy, but he's too young to start yet. Sammie is only five,"
said Mr. Porter. "Well, doggie, I guess you're glad to get back home," and
he gave Roly-Poly to Mr. Blake who thanked his neighbor, asking him to
call again.

"Here, Hal and Mab!" called their father. "After this you must keep watch
of your pet. I guess there will be many gardens on our street this
S