"To find the fortune."

"Hum!" said Bellew.

"If we could manage to find some,--even if it was only a very little, it
would cheer her up so."

"To be sure it would," said Bellew, and, sitting up, he pitched loaf,
cheese, and clasp-knife back into the knap-sack, fastened it, slung it
upon his shoulders, and rising, took up his stick.

"Come on, my Porges," said he, "and, whatever you do--keep your 'weather
eye' on your uncle."

"Where do you s'pose we'd better look first?" enquired Small Porges,
eagerly.

"Why, first, I think we'd better find your Auntie Anthea."

"But,--" began Porges, his face falling.

"But me no buts, my Porges," smiled Bellew, laying his hand upon his
new-found nephew's shoulder, "but me no buts, boy, and, as I said
before,--just keep your eye on your uncle."



CHAPTER V

_How Bellew came to Arcadia_