nd herself watching the hill road
from town.

"I feel like Sister Anne," she thought. "It's odd, why I am wanting him to
return, for when he does, my fun will be nipped in the bud. It may be the
feeling of a dog for its master that I have acquired for my sheriff man.
Jo will be going soon to Westcott's. I think I will play up to Kind Kurt
and then tell him what I revealed to Mrs. Kingdon. Wow!"

She turned from the window to hear the message Kingdon had just received
from the telegraph office in town. An old-time friend had asked him to
join a party of men at a ranch a hundred miles distant. His wife urged him
to follow his apparent inclination.

"It'll do you good, Louis, to see more of your kind again."

"I wouldn't consider it if you didn't have such good company," he said,
with a whimsical smile in Pen's direction.

The following morning, Jo drove Mrs. Kingdon, Pen and the children to town
to see Kingdon off. When his train had pulled out, they went to the
postoffice and Francis was sent in for the mail.

"A letter for you, mother," he said, running up to the car. "It's Aunt
Helen's writing."

An anxious look came into Margaret Kingdon's eyes as she read.

"Doris is ill, and my sister wants me to come to her," she explained to
Pen. "She is quite helpless in a sick room and Doris asks for me. There is
a train east in an hour and you can send my luggage on to me. I'll return
as soon as Doris is convalescent."

"I will do all I can to help with the children," promised Pen.

"I know you will. And Jo can stop at Mrs. Merlin's and take her to Top
Hill. She always presides in my absence. She is a good housekeeper and is
never disagreeable or officious."

"Jo says Mrs. Merlin shinnies on her own side," added Billy.

"Jo is right," replied his mother.

At the station Mrs. Kingdon drew Pen aside.

"You must tell Kurt, you know," she cautioned.

Pen looked plaintive, but the conductor's "all aboard" call ended the
conversation.

"We'll say our prayers and our lessons like mother told us," said Francis
as they motored home, "but of course we can't be too good all the time. I
am going to ride a horse, a real horse--not a pony."

"I am going to sit up late nights," declared Billy.

"And I shall wear your clothes and play I am a boy," Betty informed him.

"Well," thought Pen, "after all these Declarations of Independence, I feel
I must get in the forbidden fruit game, too. I know what I'll do. I'll not
tell