No telling how long she might have sat there enjoying the forbidden
pleasure of dragging her rosy toes through the warm dust, if she had not
heard a horse's hoof-beats coming rapidly along.

"Fritz, it's gran'fathah," she whispered, in alarm, recognizing the
erect figure of the rider in its spotless suit of white duck.

"Sh! lie down in the weeds, quick! Lie down, I say!" They both made
themselves as flat as possible, and lay there panting with the exertion
of keeping still.

Presently the Little Colonel raised her head cautiously.

"Oh, he's gone down that lane!" she exclaimed. "Now you can get up."
After a moment's deliberation she asked, "Fritz, would you rathah have
some 'trawberries an' be tied up fo' runnin' away, or not be tied up and
not have any of those nice tas'en 'trawberries?"




CHAPTER III.


Two hours later, Colonel Lloyd, riding down the avenue under the
locusts, was surprised by a novel sight on his stately front steps.

Three little darkies and a big flop-eared hound were crouched on the
bottom step, looking up at the Little Colonel, who sat just above them.