A Dear Little Girl's Thanksgiving Holidays

"That's just what my mother said," returned Esther Ann.

"My father said it's dishonest," put in Reba, "I mean dishonest to keep it. He knew we didn't mean to steal."

"Oh, Reba, don't say such a dreadful word," said Edna in distress.

"It would be stealing, you know, if we were to keep the things," continued Reba bluntly. "My father says you couldn't call it by any other name, and that to break into a house is burglary."

This sounded even more dreadful, though Esther Ann relieved the speech of its effect by saying: "But we didn't break in; we just opened the door and walked in. There wouldn't have been anyone to answer if we had knocked."

"That makes me feel kind of shivery," remarked Edna. "I would rather not go back, but I suppose we shall have to."

"Yes, we shall have to," Reba made the statement determinedly.

Therefore, it was with anything but an adventurous spirit that the four little girls went on their errand the next afternoon. There was no poking into nooks and corners this time, but straight to the bureau went they. Solemnly was each article returned to the box from which it was taken. Silently they tip-toed down the dusty stairs and through the silent rooms to the outer air where each drew a sigh of relief. Esther Ann was the first to speak. "There, that's done," she said. "I don't ever want to go there again."

"Nor I."

"Nor I."

"Nor I," chanted the other three.

CHAPTER VII

THE MILL STREAM

On their way home from the old house, the four girls saw Alcinda approaching. "Don't let's say anything to her about where we've been," said Esther Ann.

"No, don't let's," returned Reba; "you know she didn't want to go there in the first place."

"It was only because she was scared to," rejoined Esther Ann.

"Well, anyhow, don't let's say anything about it," continued Reba. "Don't you say so, girls?" She looked over her shoulder at Edna and Reliance who were walking behind.

"I don't see any reason why we should," said Reliance. "Of course, if she should ask questions, we wouldn't tell her a story."

"Oh, no, we wouldn't do that," agreed the other girls.

But Alcinda had no thought of old houses or anything else at this time but her little dog, Jetty, a handsome, black Pommeranian to whom she was devoted and of whom she was very proud. "Oh, girls," she exclaimed as she came up, "have you seen or heard anything of Jetty? We haven't seen him since morning, and I am so afraid he has been stolen."

"Oh, wouldn't that be dreadful?" said Edna sympathetically.

"I don't see who would steal him," said Esther Ann, practically. "Everyone knows he belongs to you, and there aren't many strangers that come through the village."

"There are a few. There was a tramp at our back door only a few days ago."

"But you didn't lose Jet a few days ago; it was only to-day that you missed him."

"I think it's more likely he is shut up somewhere," decided Reba. "Where have you looked, Alcinda?"

"Oh, pretty near everywhere I could think of, and I have asked everybody who might have seen him."

"Maybe he has gone off with some other dogs," suggested Reliance. "Dogs will do that, and sometimes they don't come back for two or three days. Mr. Prendergast had a dog that did that way. He lives near where we used to, you know, and he had a collie named Rob Roy that would go off now and then, and the other dogs would bring him back after a while. He would come in looking so ashamed, while they stood off to see how he would be treated."

"Jetty never did run away before," said Alcinda, doubtfully, although Reliance's words were comforting.

"When did you see him last and what was he doing?" asked Esther Ann.

"Mother heard him barking at a wagon that was going by. He doesn't bark at everyone, but there are some people he can't bear."

"What people?" inquired Esther Ann, trying to get a clue.

"He doesn't like the butcher boy nor the man that drives the mill wagon, nor the man that brings the laundry. He always runs out and barks at them."

"Have you asked any of them about him?"

"No, not yet."

"Then I'll tell you what let's do, girls," proposed Esther Ann. "Two of us can go around by the mill, two of us can go to the butcher's and Alcinda can go to the laundry place."

"All right," exclaimed Alcinda hopefully. "It would be lovely if you all would do that."

"I speak to go to the butcher's," spoke up Esther Ann. She was always ready to arrange affairs for everyone. "Reliance, you and Edna can go to the mill; it isn't such a very great way, and Reba can go with me."

The girls all accepted this arrangement and set off in the three different directions.

"Do you like going to the mill?" asked Edna when she and Reliance were fairly on their way.

"Oh, yes, much better than going to the butcher's. Although it is quite a little further, it is a much prettier walk. I always did like mill ponds, didn't you, Edna?"

"Why, I don't know much about them, but I should think I would like them. Do we turn off here?"

"Yes, this road leads straight to the mill; you can see it presently through the trees."

"It isn't so very far, is it?"

"No, but it is a little further to the mill pond. I wonder if the miller is there."

"Isn't he always there?"

"He is always there in the morning, but not always in the afternoon. No, the mill is shut down."

"How do you know?"

"I don't hear it, and see there, the wheel isn't moving."

"Oh!" Edna thought that Reliance was very clever to know all this before they had even reached the mill which now loomed up before them, a grey stone structure in a little nest of trees which climbed the hill behind it, and spread along the sides of the stream, flowing on to join the river.

"It is very pretty here, isn't it?" said Edna admiringly. "What do they call the stream, Reliance?"