mured Tess, "don't call him a villain. He is so pretty."

"And cute," added Dot.

Uncle Rufus had built him a nice box stall and Neale took time early
each morning to brush and curry the pony until his coat shone and his
mane was "crinkly."

Before the week was out, too, the basket phaeton arrived and a very
pretty russet, nickel-trimmed harness. Even the circus trimmings had
never fitted Scalawag better than this new harness, and he tossed his
head and pawed, as he had been trained to do, arching his neck and
looking just as though he were anxious to work.

"But it's all in his looks," observed Neale. "He doesn't mean it."

Which seemed to be the truth when the two little girls and Sammy Pinkney
got into the phaeton with Neale and took their first drive about the
more quiet residential streets of Milton.

Scalawag jogged along under compulsion; but to tell the truth he acted
just as though, if he had his own choice, he would never get out of a
walk.

"Je-ru-sa-_lem_!" muttered Sammy. "It's lucky we don't want to go
anywhere in a hurry."

It was great fun to drive around the Parade Ground and see the other
children stare. When Sammy was allowed to hold the lines he sat up like
a real coachman and was actually too proud for speech.

The responsibilities of his position immediately impressed the embryo
pirate. Neale taught him carefully how to drive, and what to do in any
emergency that might arise. Scalawag was an easy-bitted pony and minded
the rein perfectly. The only danger was the pony's slowness in getting
into action.

"I reckon," declared Neale, with some disgust, "if there was a bomb
dropped behind him, old Scalawag wouldn't get out of the way quick
enough, even if there was a five-minute time fuse on the bomb."

"Well, I guess he'll never run away then," said Tess, with a sigh of
satisfaction. Nothing could be said about Scalawag that one or the other
of the two little girls could not find an excuse for, or even that the
criticism was actually praise.

"One thing you want to remember, children," Neale said one day,
earnestly. "If you're ever out with Scalawag without me, and you hear a
band playing, or anything that sounds like a band, you turn him around
and beat it the other way."

"All right," responded the little girls.

"What for?" asked Sammy, at once interested.

"Never mind what for. You promise to do as I say, or it's all off.
You'll get no chance to drive the girls alone."

"Sure,