"That sounds lively. At the other place all the folks had gone to a
funeral," and the man laughed as he glanced at the big house on the
hill.

"Why, do you know the Squire?" exclaimed Bab, much surprised and
re-assured.

"Come on purpose to see him. Just strolling round till he gets back,"
with an impatient sort of sigh.

"Betty thought you was a tramp, but I wasn't afraid. I like tramps ever
since Ben came," explained Bab, with her usual candor.

"Who's Ben?" and the man came nearer so quickly that Betty nearly fell
backward. "Don't you be scared, Sissy. I like little girls, so you set
easy and tell me about Ben," he added, in a persuasive tone, as he
leaned on the gate, so near that both could see what a friendly face he
had in spite of its eager, anxious look.

"Ben is Miss Celia's boy. We found him almost starved in the
coach-house, and he's been living near here ever since," answered Bab,
comprehensively.

"Tell me all about it. I like tramps too," and the man looked as if he
did, very much, as Bab told the little story in a few childish words
that were better than a much more elegant account.

"You were very good to the little feller," was all the man said when she
ended her somewhat confused tale, in which she had jumbled the old coach
and Miss Celia, dinner-pails and nutting, Sancho and circuses.