A huge red touring car, filled with laughing girls, whizzed past
him, and after that a light delivery car that had to swerve
sharply to avoid striking him. As Brother reached the dog he
thought the motor-truck was going to roll right over him, and he
closed his eyes and made a grab for Brownie. When he opened them,
the truck was standing still, two wheels in the ditch, and three
men were climbing down and starting toward him.

"Are you hurt, Roddy?" cried Sister, skipping into the road,
followed by Nellie. "My, I thought that truck was going to run
over you sure!"

"Come out of the road, you kids!" ordered one of the men roughly,
pushing the three children not unkindly over in the direction of
the ditch. "This is no place to stand and talk--hasn't your mother
ever told you to keep out of the streets?"

The driver of the truck, who was a young man with blue eyes and a
quick smile, patted Brownie on the head gently.

"I saw the dog," he explained to Brother. "I wouldn't have run
over him, anyway. Next time, no matter what happens, don't you run
into the road. Cars going the other way might have struck you, and
I didn't know which way you were going to jump after you got the
dog. No driver wants to run over a dog if he can help it, and you
children only make matters worse by dashing in among traffic."

"I didn't mean to," said Brother sorrowfully. "Only I didn't want
Brownie to get hurt. I hardly ever dash among traffic, do I,