"Maybe it's somebody come to find out about a garden," added the little
boy. "Daddy knows lots about how to make things grow, and maybe, on
account of the war, everybody's got to plant corn and beans and things."

"I don't like war and soldiers," spoke Mab, while Daddy Blake went to the
front door. "I don't care when you play soldier, and make believe shoot
your pop gun, but I don't like REAL guns. Maybe this is somebody come to
tell Daddy to go to war."

"I hope not!" exclaimed Hal.

When Daddy Blake opened the door the children heard some one saying:

"I guess this little fellow belongs to you, Mr. Blake. I found him over in
my garden, digging away. Maybe he was planting a bone, thinking he could
grow some roast beef," and a man's laugh was heard. Then came a sharp
little bark.

"Oh, it's Roly-Poly!" cried Hal.

[Illustration]

"He must have run away and we didn't miss him 'cause we talked so much
about the garden," added Mab. "I wonder where he was?"

"Yes, that's my children's dog," said Mr. Blake to the man who had brought
home Roly-Poly. "So he was in your garden; eh?"

"Well, yes, in the place where I'm going to make a garden. My name is
Porter, I live next door. Only moved in last week and we haven't gotten