long
seats in it, and she hurried toward it, too. A man helped her up the
high step, and she found a seat just behind the driver.

The automobile was lumbering up a narrow white road with woods on
either side of it before Dot realized where she was.

"Why, this isn't the boat!" she said aloud.

The lady seated next to her glanced at her curiously.

"The boat?" she repeated. "This jitney goes to Fermarsh. You're not
traveling all alone, are you, little girl? You don't look more'n
five."

"I was four in June," announced Dot with dignity. "Twaddles was, too.
We're twins. But I have to go to Little Havre on the boat."

"You're going in the opposite direction," said the woman placidly. She
did not seem to care. "What's that on your dress?"

Dot's tears brimmed over.

"Milk," she sobbed. "I tipped it over. An' I have to go on the boat
with my mother."

The jitney driver heard and turned.

"What's this?" he asked. "You belong on the boat, little girl? Well,
now, don't cry; we'll fix it. I heard they had engine trouble to-day,
and like as not they'll be late starting. Long up the road a spell
we'll meet the two o'clock jitney coming back, and I'll see that Dave
Gunn takes you in with him. An' if you do miss the boat my wife'll
take care of you over night and we'll ship you up to Little Havre on
to-morrow's boat."

Dot felt that the jitney driver was very kind, but she hoped with all
her heart that she would not have to stay all night in a strange
house. She wanted her mother, and Twaddles and Meg and Bobby. She
hadn't known till this minute how dearly she loved them.

Sure enough, their jitney had not gone very far when they saw another
jitney coming toward them.

"Hi, Dave!" called the driver of Dot's jitney. "Got a passenger for
you. A little lady who tangled up her traveling directions and missed
getting on the boat. You take her with you, and see that she lands on
the steamer."

Mr. Gunn stopped his machine and came over to the other jitney.

"Come on, Sister," he said pleasantly, lifting Dot down gently.

"Why, you are little to be traveling on your own. I've got three home
'bout your size."

Mother Blossom, as you may suppose, had been nearly frantic all this
time. She had taken the other children on board the boat and had left
them on deck with the bags, after they had promised not to stir from
the spot where she left them, and she had been going up and down the
dock making inquiries, and even walk