er legs and freedom from hampering skirts. "Oh! it's actually
going! What a shame!"

The boy made a spurt, and shouted and whistled after the retreating
omnibus, but it was not of the slightest avail; neither the conductor
nor the driver took any notice. Realizing the hopelessness of his
efforts, the boy stopped and saw Gwen, who came panting up.

"No use, it's gone too far!" he exclaimed. "It's an atrocious swindle!
Those men never look. I suppose you were trying to catch it too?"

"Yes. I always go by the 4.20."

"So do I; so it's a nuisance to miss this. We're out of luck to-day."

Gwen knew the boy quite well by sight, as for the last few weeks he
had been a fellow passenger morning and evening in the omnibus. He was
a jolly-looking fellow, about her own age or perhaps a little older,
with a brown skin and very twinkling, brown eyes. He wore a
grammar-school cap, and carried some books, so she could guess his
occupation in Stedburgh.

"I believe the next goes at half-past six," he remarked ruefully. "But
you won't catch me waiting for it I shall walk."

"So shall I," agreed Gwen. "Walking's better fun any time than
standing waiting," and she suited her action to her words. The boy
kept by her side, evidently not unpleased to have a companion to talk
to.

"You're one of the Gascoyne girls, aren't you?" he began. "I see the
whole lot of you every day cramming into the bus. Aren't you the one
they call Gwen?"

"I believe I am."

"It's you who's generally left something behind, or lost something, or
got yourself into some kind of a pickle; then the one with her hair
turned up scolds."

"That's Winnie," chuckled Gwen.

"Those two youngsters are cheeky imps. Tell them they'll get their
heads smacked some day!"

"They often do at home."

"Serve 'em right. I'm glad to hear it. How many more are there of you
at home?"

"Only two."

"Quite enough, I should think!"

"Thank you! You've asked all about my family, but you haven't told me
who you are."

"Why, I thought you knew. My name is Dick Chambers. My father is Dr.
Chambers, who's just taken Dr. Harrison's practice."

"At North Ditton?"

"Yes, we only came six weeks ago. Dr. Harrison has gone to London."

[Illustration: GWEN MEETS DICK]

"I knew Dr. Harrison," said Gwen. "He came to see us when we had
scarlatina, and gave us some loathly medicine!"

"Dad can do a little in that line!" laughed Dick. "He once made me
drink asafoetida when I was