Anne giggled. “Don’t be silly. I just wondered if we ought to leave Timmy on guard, that’s all.”

“Leave Timmy!” said George, amazed. “You don’t really think I’d leave Timmy behind every time we go off anywhere, Anne? Don’t be an idiot.”

“No, I didn’t really think you would,” said Anne. “Well, I suppose nobody will come along here. Throw over that tea-cloth, George, if you’ve finished with it.”

Soon the tea-cloths were hanging over the gorse bushes to dry in the sun. Everything was put away neatly in the tents. Mr. Luffy had called a loud good-bye and gone. Now the five were ready to go off to the farm.

Anne took a basket, and gave one to Julian too. “To bring back the food,” said she. “Are you ready to go now?”

They set off over the heather, their bare knees brushing through the honeyed flowers, and sending scores of busy bees into the air. It was a lovely day again, and the children felt free and happy.

They came to the trim little farm. Men were at work in the fields, but Julian did not think they were very industrious. He looked about for the farm-boy.

The boy came out of a shed and whistled to them. “Hallo! You come for some more eggs? I’ve collected quite a lot for you.”

He stared at Anne. “You didn’t come yesterday. What’s your name?”

“Anne,” said Anne. “What’s yours?”

“Jock,” said the boy, with a grin. He was rather a nice boy, Anne thought, with straw-coloured hair, blue eyes, and rather a red face which looked very good-tempered.

“Where’s your mother?” said Julian. “Can we get some bread and other things from her to-day? We ate an awful lot of our food yesterday, and we want to stock up our larder again!”

“She’s busy just now in the dairy,” said Jock. “Are you in a hurry? Come and see my pups.”

They all walked off with him to a shed. In there, right at the end, was a big box lined with straw. A collie dog lay there with four lovely little puppies. She growled at Timmy fiercely, and he backed hurriedly out of the shed. He had met fierce mother-dogs before, and he didn’t like them!

The four children exclaimed over the fat little puppies, and Anne took one out very gently. It cuddled into her arms and made funny little whining noises.

“I wish it was mine,” said Anne. “I should call it Cuddle.”

“What a frightful name for a dog,” said George scornfully. “Just the kind of silly name you would think of, Anne. Let me hold it. Are they all yours, Jock?”

“Yes,” said Jock, proudly. “The mother’s mine, you see. Her name’s Biddy.”

Biddy pricked up her ears at her name and looked up at Jock out of bright, alert eyes. He fondled her silky head.

“I’ve had her for four years,” he said. “When we were at Owl Farm, old Farmer Burrows gave her to me when she was eight weeks old.”