"I was four in June," announced Dot with dignity. "Twaddles was, too. We're twins. But I have to go to Little Havre on the boat."
"You're going in the opposite direction," said the woman placidly. She did not seem to care. "What's that on your dress?"
Dot's tears brimmed over.
"Milk," she sobbed. "I tipped it over. An' I have to go on the boat with my mother."
The jitney driver heard and turned.
"What's this?" he asked. "You belong on the boat, little girl? Well, now, don't cry; we'll fix it. I heard they had engine trouble to-day, and like as not they'll be late starting. Long up the road a spell we'll meet the two o'clock jitney coming back, and I'll see that Dave Gunn takes you in with him. An' if you do miss the boat my wife'll take care of you over night and we'll ship you up to Little Havre on to-morrow's boat."
Dot felt that the jitney driver was very kind, but she hoped with all her heart that she would not have to stay all night in a strange house. She wanted her mother, and Twaddles and Meg and
