sped the money in his fingers, and instantly slid
to the ground. Laughs and cheers roared into the air. Flea had backed
away from the pole, still holding the small dog; but, before she could
get to Flukey, other boys were surrounding him, asking how he had done
it.

* * * * *

A sudden shouting came from hundreds of throats. One voice raised above
the clamor:

"Anyone catching the greased pig, Squeaky, can have him. He's a fine
roaster! After him, Boys!"

Over a knoll, his tiny nose swaying in the air, and four short legs
kicking the dust into clouds, skurried a small pig, coated from head to
tail with lard. Deftly he slipped for his life through many youthful
hands stretched out to grasp him, and time and again he wriggled from
under a small boy crouched to stop his progress. He passed the
danger-mark, and in the new stretch of ground, where the spectators were
standing, discerned a chance to escape.

Flea saw him coming and could detect the terror in the flying little
beast. Her heart leaped up in answer to the call from something in
distress--something she loved, loved because it lived and suffered
through terrible fear. She dropped Snatchet and caught the greased pig
in her arms. She hugged him up to her breast and, turning flashing eyes
upon the people staring at her, said:

"Poor little baby piggy! He's scared almost to death."

"You've caught the greased pig!" somebody shouted. "You can have
him--he's yours!"

"Ye mean mine to keep?" Flea demanded of the man who had cheered on the
boys.

"Yes, to keep," was the reply, "and this five-dollar gold-piece because
you caught him."

"I didn't try to catch him," she said simply. "He jest comed to me
'cause he were so afeard. His little heart's a beatin' like as if he's
goin' to die. I'll keep him, and I thank ye for the money.... Golly! but
ain't me and Flukey two rich kids? Where's Fluke?"

Just then somebody stepped up behind the girl and touched her on the
arm. Flea turned her head and found herself gazing into the kindly eyes
and earnest face of her prince.

Instantly she lost all thought of her brother and Snatchet. The voice
she had dreamed of was speaking.

"Little boy," it said, "I've purchased every year the greased pig of the
youngster who caught him. May I buy him of you? I'll give you another
gold-piece for him."

Words stuck in Flea's throat, and she only clung closer to the suckling.
At last she murmured, "