began Henry.
“Please, Henry,” said Jess excitedly. “I could make this old freight car into the dearest little house, with beds, and chairs, and a table—and dishes—”
“I’d like to live here, too,” said a determined little voice from the corner, “but I don’t want to, unless—”
“Unless what?” asked Henry, panic-stricken.
“Unless I can have my dinner,” Benny finished anxiously.
“We’ll have something to eat right away, old fellow,” said Henry, thankful it was no worse. For he himself was beginning to see what a cozy home the car really would make.
Jess cut the last loaf of bread into four pieces, but alas! it was very dry. The children were so hungry that they tore it with their teeth like little dogs, but Benny was nearly crying. He did not actually cry, however, for just at the crucial moment Violet started a funny story about Cinnamon Bear eating bread crusts out of the ash can.
“He ought to have milk,” said Jess quietly to Henry.
“He shall have milk,” replied Henry. “I’ll go down the railroad track to the town and get some.”
Jess counted out a dollar in ten dimes and handed it to Henry. “By the time our four dollars are gone, you will have some work to do,” she said.
All the same Henry did not like to begin his trip. “How I hate to leave you alone, Jess!” he said miserably.
“Oh, don’t you worry,” began Jess lightly. “We’ll have a surprise for you when you come back. You just wait and see!” And she nodded her head wisely as Henry walked slowly off through the woods.
The moment he was out of sight she turned to Benny and Violet. “Now, children,” she said, “what do you think we’re going to do? Do you know what I saw over in the sunny part of the woods? I saw some blueberries!”
“Oh, oh!” cried Benny, who knew what blueberries were. “Can’t we have some blueberries and milk?”
“We certainly—” began Jess. But the sentence never was finished, for a sharp crackle of dry leaves was heard. Something was moving in the woods.
A NEW HOME
“KEEP still!” whispered Jess.
Benny obeyed. The three children were as motionless as stone images, huddled inside the freight car. Jess opened her mouth in order to breathe at all, her heart was thumping so wildly. She watched like a cat through the open door, in the direction of the rustling noise. And in a moment the trembling bushes parted, and out crawled a dog. He was an Airedale and was pulling himself along on three legs, whimpering softly.
Jess drew a long breath of relief, and said to the children, “It’s all right. Only a dog. But he seems to be hurt.”
At the sound of her voice the dog lifted his eyes and wagged his tail feebly. He held up his front foot.
“Poor doggie,” murmured Jess soothingly, as she clambered out of the car. “Let Jess see your poor lame foot.” She approached the dog carefully, for she remembered that her mother had always told her never to touch a strange dog unless he wagged his tail.
But this dog’s tail was wagging, certainly, so Jess bent over without fear to look at the paw. An exclamation of pity escaped her when she saw it, for a stiff, sharp thorn had been driven completely through one of the cushions of the dog’s foot, and around it the blood had dried.
“I guess I can fix that,” said Jess briskly. “But taking the thorn out is going to hurt you, old fellow.”
The dog looked up at her as she laid his paw down, and licked her hand.
“Come here, Violet and Benny,” directed Jess.
She took the animal gently in her lap and turned him on his side. She patted his head and stroked his nose with one finger, and offered him the rest of her breadcrust, which she had put in her apron pocket. The dog snapped it up as if he were nearly starved. Then she held the soft paw firmly with her left hand, and pulled steadily on the thorn with her right hand. The dog did not utter a sound. He lay motionless in her lap, until the thorn suddenly let go and lay in Jess’ hand.
“Good, good!” cried Violet.
“Wet my handkerchief,” Jess ordered briskly.
Violet did so, dipping it in the running brook. Jess wrapped the cool, wet folds around the hot paw, and gently squeezed it against the wound, the dog meanwhile trying to lick her hands.
“We’ll s’prise Henry, won’t we?” laughed Benny delightedly. “Now we got a dog!”
“To be sure,” said Jess, struck with the thought, “but that isn’t what I intended for a surprise. You know I was intending to get a lot of blueberries, and maybe find some old dishes in a dump or something—”
“Can’t we look while you hold the dog?” asked Violet anxiously.
“Of course you can, Pet!” said Jess. “Look over there by those rocks.”
Benny and Violet scrambled through the underbrush to the place Jess pointed out, and investigated. But they did not hunt long, for the blueberries were so thick that the bushes almost bent over with their weight.
“O Jessy,” screamed Benny, “you never saw so many in your life! What’ll we pick ’em into?”
“Come and get a clean towel,” said Jess, who noticed that Benny was already “picking into” his own mouth.
“But that’s just as well,” she thought. “Because he won’t get so hungry waiting for the milk.” She watched the two children a moment as they dropped handfuls of the bluish globes on the towel. Then she carefully got up with her little patient and went over and sat down in the center of the patch. The berries were so thick she did not have to change her position before the towel held over a quart.
“Oh, dear,” sighed Jess. “I wish I could hunt for some dishes, so we could have blueberries and milk.”
“Never mind tonight,” said Violet. “We can just eat a handful of berries and then take a drink of milk, when Henry comes.”
But it was even better than that, for when Henry came he had two bottles of milk under one arm, a huge loaf of brown bread under the other, and some golden cheese in waxed paper in his pocket.
But you should have seen Henry stare when he saw what Jess was holding!
“Where in the world—” began the boy.
“He camed to us,” volunteered Benny. “He camed for a s’prise for you. And he’s a nice doggie.”
Henry knelt down to look at the visitor, who wagged his tail. “It wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a watchdog,” said Henry. “I worried about you all the time I was gone.”
“Did you bring some milk?” inquired Benny, trying to be polite, but looking at the bottles with
