too.

"I say, what a jolly lot of rabbits you have got!" the boy said, looking down at the other five, who were busy nibbling away at the grass, without seeming to care in the least what happened to Jumbo; "but aren't you afraid of their running away?"

"They generally behave beautifully," Drusie said, who, because the other three were rather shy, was obliged to do all the talking herself; "but something must have startled Jumbo when we were at the top of the hill, for he set off at a tremendous scamper, and tumbled in headforemost before we knew what was happening to him."

"Poor old Jumbo!" said the boy, as he looked across at the shivering, melancholy rabbit. "We must rescue him though, and that is easily done."

As he spoke he led the way along the bank to a spot where a thick clump of willows grew; and moored to one of these trees was a small, light canoe.

"I'll paddle across in less than no time," he said, "and if the swans do not interfere, I'll soon bring him safely back to you."

The swans did not interfere, however, and Jumbo a minute or two later was clasped in Drusie's arms. She almost cried over him in her joy at his safety.

Sitting down on the bank she began to dry him with her handkerchief; but it was soaked through at once, and the boy suggested that they should rub him with their hands. So Drusie placed him tenderly on the grass, and they rubbed him until their arms ached; and no doubt Jumbo ached too, for they all rubbed with a will.

"But at any rate," Drusie said in a tone of satisfaction, "he won't catch cold now, and he is so old that he might have had a dreadful attack of rheumatism."

Long before Jumbo was dry they had all become very friendly with their new acquaintance. Jim and Helen and Tommy forgot to be shy, and they all chatted away together as if they had known each other for quite a long time. It was not until half an hour later, as, with Jumbo lying comfortably in Drusie's arms, for she said he was too weak to walk, they were all hurrying home, that they remembered they did not even know what their new friend's name was, or where he lived.

"Perhaps," said Helen, "he lives at the Grange, and Captain Grey is his father."

"Captain Grey hasn't any children," Drusie said. "I heard nurse say so."

"Then perhaps he is staying there on a visit," Jim said.

But Drusie did not think that that was likely either, for had not the gamekeeper said that his master "could not abear boys"? And if that was the case, he certainly would not have one staying in the house.

But whoever he was, they all four agreed that he was an exceedingly nice boy, and they hoped that they might meet him again.

CHAPTER III.

HAL FINDS A FRIEND.

n their way through the garden they met Hal. Directly they saw him his brothers and sisters rushed up and told him all about Jumbo's adventures, and about the boy who had been so kind to them. Hal was not greatly interested. He was looking pale and listless, and there were heavy, dark lines about his eyes. When they asked him eagerly if he knew who the boy could be, he shook his head and yawned, and said that he was sure he did not know.

"Come and have a game of cricket," he said, rousing himself a little. "I have got my bat here, and the ball is somewhere about. Just have a look for it, Tommy. We won't bother about stumps. This tree will do quite well for the wicket."

"All right," Drusie said, delighted to find that Hal was willing to be friends again. "I should love a game; but we must put Jumbo and the other rabbits away first.—Come along, Jim and Helen."

She and Jim ran off at once, but Helen followed more slowly. She had a shrewd suspicion that Hal merely wanted them to bowl and field for him, and that he did not intend to allow them to bat. And she did not see the fun of running about in the hot sun after his balls, if she was not going to have any of the batting.

But Drusie and Jim were too excited at the prospect of a game to listen to her words of warning, and as soon as the rabbits had been hastily bundled into their hutches they raced back to the tree where Hal was waiting for them.

"You shall bowl first, Jim," he said.—"Drusie, you can stand behind the tree and be wicket-keeper, for, unless Jim has improved wonderfully since I went away, most of his balls will be fearful wides.—Helen, you go over there, and mind to throw the balls up sharp."

"Then you are going in first," said Helen, "and we are not going to toss?"

But Hal was busy measuring out the distance at which Jim was to stand, and did not hear her question. Or if he did, he evidently did not consider it worthy of an answer.

"Now then," Hal said, coming back; "I am ready. I am not going to make any runs, you know, as it is too hot; but you others must send the ball up promptly, or else it makes it slow work for me."

Jim's bowling was not very difficult to deal with, and Hal knocked the balls about pretty much as he pleased, and gave the fielders, and especially Helen, plenty of running about.

"Well, at this rate," Drusie said merrily, as she cleverly stopped a ball that was a very bad "wide" indeed, "we shall never get you out."

"No, I don't suppose you will," said Hal; and then he added ungratefully, "That is the worst of playing with a set of girls; one never gets any practice."

Whether Jim was annoyed at being classed as a girl, and was therefore put on his mettle, cannot be said for certain, but at any rate his very next ball hit the tree fair and square, and with so much violence that a piece of the rough elm bark was knocked off.

"Hurrah!" shouted Drusie, clapping her hands; "bowled at last. Who goes in next?"

"Don't be in such a mighty hurry," said Hal, who was looking distinctly angry. "I am not out—not a bit of it. Why, that ball was not anything like in the middle of the tree. Who ever heard of a wicket a yard and a quarter wide? You'll have to bowl better than that, Jim, to get me out."

"All right," Jim said, recovering himself. He had looked rather blank for a moment when Hal declared so emphatically that he was not out. "I suppose that ball was rather to one side of the tree. I will have another try."

But Helen was not so easily satisfied.

"You said, Hal, that the tree was to be the wicket; you never said anything about only counting the middle of the tree."

"Did I say so?" he replied. "Well, I made a mistake. Of course, it would be rather absurd to count the whole tree. I tell you what I will do. I will hang my cap on this little twig here, and if the ball hits that I am out. Now, are you satisfied?"

They all, with the exception of Helen, hastened to say that they were, and the game went on. A few minutes later he sent an easy catch, and darting forward Helen caught the ball.

"How about playing with girls now, Master Hal?" she cried. "I suppose you will own that you are fairly out this time?"

But he did nothing of the sort.

"Pooh!" he said contemptuously; "that was a pure