The little dog was a heavy armful for Meg, but she held him bravely.
“I’m afraid of strange dogs myself,” declared the conductor, plainly relieved that some one else had tended to the dog. “What are you going to do with him, little girl?”
“Take him to the doctor’s,” announced Meg. “Aren’t we, Bobby?”
“Of course,” affirmed Bobby.
He and Meg, carrying the dog, went back to where Twaddles and Dot were waiting. The twins were used to waiting patiently while the older children investigated sudden alarms and excitements.
“Let me pat him,” begged Dot. “He’s pretty, 13 isn’t he? Is he hurt, Meg? What are you going to do with him?”
“Take him to Doctor Maynard’s,” said Meg briefly. “I guess he’s in, ’cause it’s after four o’clock.”
Kind, jolly Doctor Maynard was in. He was the Blossoms’ family doctor, and knew the children very well. He didn’t seem a bit surprised to have the four of them walk into his consulting room.
“Now, who’s sick?” he demanded, pretending to be anxious. “Don’t tell me Dot needs gingerbread pills? Or has Twaddles been eating too much layer cake? Dear, dear, you can’t all have the whooping cough!”
Meg smiled, a little watery smile. Tears stood in her blue eyes.