adventures which to them seemed so exciting, not to say tragical, the
effect astonished them immensely, as their audience went into gales of
laughter, especially at the wheelbarrow episode, which Bab insisted on
telling, with grateful minuteness, to Ben's confusion. Thorny shouted,
and even tender-hearted Betty forgot her tears over the lost dog to
join in the familiar melody when Bab mimicked Pat's quotation from
Mother Goose.

"We must not laugh any more, or these naughty children will think they
have done something very clever in running away," said Miss Celia,
when the fun subsided, adding soberly, "I _am_ displeased, but I will
say nothing, for I think Ben is already punished enough."

"Guess I am," muttered Ben, with a choke in his voice as he glanced
toward the empty mat where a dear curly bunch used to lie with a
bright eye twinkling out of the middle of it.




CHAPTER XV.

BEN'S RIDE.


Great was the mourning for Sancho, because his talents and virtues
made him universally admired and beloved. Miss Celia advertised,
Thorny offered rewards, and even surly Pat kept a sharp look-out for
poodle dogs when he went to market; but no Sancho or any trace of him
appeared. Ben was inconsolable, and sternly said it served Bab right