ttle more work for me, that's
all. But, when I do find them, I shall be the proudest man in all the
world."

Ann rose to her feet hastily. "Here comes Horace! Let's talk over the
fair--and now, Dear, I must kiss away those naughty lines between your
eyes this moment. I don't want my boy to feel sad."

She kissed him tenderly, and turned to meet her brother.

"I was tired of staying in there alone," said Horace. "Hello, Everett!
It was nice of you, old chap, to ask me along to Dryden. That's my one
failing in the fall--I always go. Let me see--you didn't go last year,
did you, Everett?"

"No; but I knew that Ann wanted to go this year, and I thought a party
would be pleasant. I asked Katherine Vandecar; but her aunt is such an
invalid that Katherine can scarcely ever leave her."

"Mrs. Vandecar is ill," said Ann. "I called there yesterday, and she is
the frailest looking woman I ever saw."

"She's never got over the loss of her children," rejoined Everett. "It's
hard on Vandecar, too, to have her ill. He looks ten years older than he
is."

"Yes; but their little Mildred is such a comfort to them both!"
interjected Ann. "They watch the child like hawks. I suppose it's only
natural after their awful experience. Isn't it strange that two children
could disappear from the face of the earth and not a word be heard from
them in all these years?"

"They're probably dead," replied Horace gently, and silence fell upon
them.

CHAPTER NINE

Flea and Flukey Cronk, followed by the yellow dog, made their way
farther and farther from Ithaca. They had left the university in the
distance, when a dim streak of light warned them that day was
approaching. It was here that Flea lagged behind her brother.

"Ye're tired, Flea," said Flukey.

"Yep."

"Will ye crawl into a haystack if we come to one?"

"Yep."

They spoke no more until, farther on, a farmhouse, with dark barns in
the rear, loomed up before them.

"Ye wait here, Flea," said Flukey, "till I see where we can sleep."

After an absence of a few minutes he returned and in silence conducted
the girl by a roundabout way to a newly piled stack of hay.

"I burried a place for us both," he whispered. "Ye crawl in first, Flea,
and I'll bring in Snatchet. Lift yer leg up high and ye'll find the
hole."

A minute later they were tucked away from the cold morning, their small
faces overshadowed by the new-mown hay, and here, through the morning
hours, they slep