Upon the rest of the story Billy touched lightly--how, his dollar gone, he had had no money with-which to buy his way into the fair; how Jim, returning from an unsuccessful search for the uncle and finding Billy and the dog under the tree, had, disgusted by Billy's extravagance, left him there, bidding him wait! But later Jim had relented and had treated Billy to an ice-cream cone from the tent near the gate. Then Jim had started for home and Billy had walked the five miles between Middletown and Overlook, pushing the bicycle and leading the tired dog. "And I never saw the Fair at all," he finished, breathless from his story. "Well, Mother--don't you think Billy deserves the dog?" said Mr. Lee when Billy had finished. And Keineth whispered, "Goody, goody!" Mrs. Lee laughed. "I will say that he may stay here on trial--while we're in the country. But, oh, dear--I had hoped we'd never have another dog--and of all things, a long-haired dog!" "Jim Archer said he was an Airedale," broke in Billy, proudly stroking the dirty head. "Pretty cheap for a dollar, I think!" "Let's name him," cried Alice eagerly. "I think you'd better bathe him first," chuckled Mr. Lee. Then, turning to his wife, "You know I think it is a valuable dog! The fellow must have stolen him!" In triumph Billy and Peggy led the newcomer towards the pump for his bath, while Keineth went in search of soap and a sponge. Over the bath they discussed names and, as it looked as though they could not agree, they decided that, because Keineth was a visitor, she should select the name. And after a little thought she called him Pilot. "Pilot Lee," said Peggy, squeezing a spongeful of water over the dog's head. An hour later a very tired boy was sleeping soundly, while on the floor beside his cot lay the dog--his warm muzzle faithfully snuggled against Billy's dusty shoe. CHAPTER VI THE MUSIC THE FAIRIES PUT IN HER FINGERS On the shaded corner of the wide veranda Mrs. Lee sat making buttonholes in a blouse for Billy, humming as she worked. Occasionally she patted the crisp cloth in her hand as though she loved this task of stitching for her youngsters. About her quiet reigned; broken now and then by Peggy's bird in its cage and the far-off sound of the gasoline mower on the golf course. Suddenly Barbara came around the corner of the house, like a rose, in her fresh pink gingham. In her hand she swung a putter. "Off for the golf links, dear?" Mrs. Lee asked, glancing with pride over the straight, slim figure of the girl. "Yes, Mother, Carol Day and I play off our match this afternoon. If I beat her I'll win those candlesticks--" "They will look very pretty on your dresser," smiled Mrs. Lee. "I know what you mean, Mother--that I'm just playing for the candlesticks alone and I'm not at all, for when I do win one I sort of hate taking a prize. But I would like to beat Carol because she does play such a good game!" "That's the spirit, Bab. Where are the little girls?"