WHERE THEY FOUND HIS MASTER.
Neither spoke for a minute, astonishment being too great for words;
then, as by one impulse, both stole up and touched the cake with a
timid little finger, quite prepared to see it fly away in some
mysterious and startling manner. It remained sitting tranquilly in the
basket, however, and the children drew a long breath of relief, for,
though they did not believe in fairies, the late performances did seem
rather like witchcraft.
"The dog didn't eat it!"
"Sally didn't take it!"
"How do you know?"
"_She_ never would have put it back."
"Who did?"
"Can't tell, but I forgive 'em."
"What shall we do now?" asked Betty, feeling as if it would be very
difficult to settle down to a quiet tea-party after such unusual
excitement.
"Eat that cake up just as fast as ever we can," and Bab divided the
contested delicacy with one chop of the big knife, bound to make sure
of her own share at all events.
It did not take long, for they washed it down with sips of milk and ate
as fast as possible, glancing round all the while to see if the queer
dog was coming again.
"There! now I'd like to see any one take _my_ cake away," said Bab,
defiantly crunching her half of the pie-crust B.
"Or mine either," coughed Betty, choking over a raisin that wouldn't go
down in a hurry.
"We might as well clear up, and play there had been an earthquake,"
suggested Bab, feeling that some such convulsion of nature was needed
to explain satisfactorily the demoralized condition of her family.
"That will be splendid. My poor Linda was knocked right over on her
nose. Darlin' child, come to your mother and be fixed," purred Betty,
lifting the fallen idol from a grove of chickweed, and tenderly
brushing the dirt from Belinda's heroically smiling face.
"She'll have croup to-night as sure as the world. We'd better make up
some squills out of this sugar and water," said Bab, who dearly loved
to dose the dollies all round.
"P'r'aps she will, but you needn't begin to sneeze yet awhile. I can
sneeze for my own children, thank you, ma'am," returned Betty, sharply,
for her usually amiable spirit had been ruffled by the late
occurrences.
"I didn't sneeze! I've got enough to do to talk and cry and cough for
my own poor dears without bothering about yours," cried Bab, even more
ruffled than her sister.
"Then who did? I heard a real, live sneeze just as plain as anything,"
and Betty looked up to the green roof above her, as if the sound came
from that direction.
A yellow-bird sat swinging and chirping on the tall lilac-bush, but no
other living thing was in sight.
"Birds don't sneeze, do they?" asked Betty, eying little Goldy
suspiciously.
"You goose! of course they don't."
"Well, I should just like to know who is laughing and sneezing round
here. May be it is the dog," suggested Betty, looking relieved.
"I never heard of a dog's laughing, except Mother Hubbard's. This is
such a queer one, may be he can, though. I wonder where he went to?"
and Bab took a patient survey down both the side paths, quite longing
to see the funny poodle again.
"I know where _I'm_ going to," said Betty, piling the dolls into her
apron with more haste than care. "I'm going right straight home to tell
Ma all about it. I don't like such actions, and I'm afraid to stay."
"I aint; but I guess it is going to rain, so I shall have to go
anyway," answered Bab, taking advantage of the black clouds rolling up
the sky, for _she_ scorned to own that she was afraid of anything.
Clearing the table in a summary manner by catching up the four corners
of the cloth, Bab put the rattling bundle into her apron, flung her
children on the top, and pronounced herself ready to depart. Betty
lingered an instant to pick up odds and ends that might be spoilt by
the rain, and when she turned from taking the red halter off the
knocker, two lovely pink roses lay on the stone steps.
"Oh, Bab, just see! Here's the very ones we wanted. Wasn't it nice of
the wind to blow 'em down?" she called out, picking them up and running
after her sister, who had strolled moodily along, still looking about
her for her sworn foe, Sally Folsom.
The flowers soothed the feelings of the little girls, because they had
longed for them, and bravely resisted the temptation to climb up the
trellis and help themselves, since their mother had forbidden such
feats, owing to a fall Bab got trying to reach a honeysuckle from the
vine which ran all over the porch.
Home they went and poured out their tale, to Mrs. Moss's great
amusement, for she saw in it only some playmate's prank, and was not
much impressed by the mysterious sneeze and laugh.
"We'll have a grand rummage Monday, and find out what is going on over
there," was all she said.
But Mrs. Moss could not keep her promise, for on Monday it still
rained, and the little girls paddled off to school like a pair of young
ducks, enjoying every puddle they came to, since India rubber boots
made wading a delicious possibility. They took their dinner, and at
noon regaled a crowd of comrades with an account of the mysterious dog,
who appeared to be haunting the neighborhood, as several of the other
children had seen him examining their back yards with interest. He had
begged of them, but to none had he exhibited his accomplishments except
Bab and Betty, and they were therefore much set up, and called him "our
dog" with an air. The cake transaction remained a riddle, for Sally
Folsom solemnly declared that she was playing tag in Mamie Snow's barn
at that identical time. No one had been near the old house but the two
children, and no one could throw any light upon that singular affair.
It produced a great effect, however; for even "teacher" was interested,
and told such amazing tales of a juggler she once saw that doughnuts
were left forgotten in dinner-baskets, and wedges of pie remained
suspended in the air for several minutes at a time, instead of
vanishing with miraculous rapidity as usual. At afternoon recess, which
the girls had first, Bab nearly dislocated every joint of her little
body trying to imitate the poodle's antics. She had practiced on her
bed with great success, but the wood-shed floor was a different thing,
as her knees and elbows soon testified.
"It looked just as easy as anything; I don't see how he did it," she
said, coming down with a bump after vainly attempting to walk on her
hands.
"My gracious, there he is this very minute!" cried Betty, who sat on a
little wood-pile near the door.
There was a general rush, and sixteen small girls gazed out into the
rain as eagerly as if to behold Cinderella's magic coach, instead of
one forlorn dog trotting by through the mud.
"Oh, do call him in and make him dance!" cried the girls, all chirping
at once, till it sounded as if a flock of sparrows had taken possession
of the shed.
"_I_ will call him, he knows _me_," and Bab scrambled up, forgetting
how she had chased the poodle and called him names two days ago.
He evidently had not forgotten, for though he paused and looked
wistfully at them, he would not approach, but stood dripping in the
rain with his frills much bedraggled, while his tasseled tail wagged
slowly, and his pink nose pointed suggestively to the pails and
baskets, nearly empty now.
"He's hungry; give him something to eat, and then he'll see that we
don't want to hurt him," suggested Sally, starting a contribution with
her last bit of bread and butter.
Bab caught up her new pail, and collected all the odds and ends, then
tried to beguile the poor beast in to eat and be comforted. But he only
came as far as the door, and sitting up, begged with such imploring
eyes that Bab put down the pail and stepped back, saying pitifully:
"The poor thing is starved; let him eat all he wants and we wont touch
him."
The girls drew back with little clucks of interest and compassion, but
I regret to say their charity was not rewarded as they expected, for,
the minute the coast was clear, the dog marched boldly up, seized the
handle of the pail in his mouth, and was off with it, galloping down
the road at a great pace. Shrieks arose from the children, especially
Bab and Betty, basely bereaved of their new dinner-pail; but no one
could follow the thief, for the bell rang, and in they went, so much
excited that the boys rushed tumultuously forth to discover the cause.
By the time school was over the sun was out, and Bab and Betty hastened
home to tell their wrongs and be comforted by mother, who did it most
effectually.
"Nevermind, dears, I'll get you another pail, if he doesn't bring it
back as he did before. As it is too wet for you to play out, you shall
go and see the old coach-house as I promised. Keep on your rubbers and
come along."
This delightful prospect much assuaged their woe, and away they went,
skipping gayly down the graveled path, while Mrs. Moss followed, with
skirts well tucked up, and a great bunch of keys in her hand, for she
lived at the Lodge and had charge of the premises.
The small door of the coach-house was fastened inside, but the large
one had a padlock on it, and this being quickly unfastened, one half
swung open, and the little girls ran in, too eager and curious even to
cry out when they found themselves at last in possession of the
long-coveted old carriage. A dusty, musty concern enough, but it had a
high seat, a door, steps that let down, and many other charms which
rendered it most desirable in the eyes of children.
Bab made straight for the box and Betty for the door, but both came
tumbling down faster than they went up, when, from the gloom of the
interior came a shrill bark, and a low voice saying quickly: "Down,
Sancho, down!"
"Who is there?" demanded Mrs. Moss, in a stern tone, backing toward the
door with both children clinging to her skirts.
The well-known curly white head was popped out of the broken window,
and a mild whine seemed to say, "Don't be alarmed, ladies; we wont hurt
you."
"Come out this minute, or I shall have to come to get you," called Mrs.
Moss, growing very brave all of a sudden as she caught sight of a pair
of small, dusty shoes under the coach.
"Yes 'm, I'm coming as fast as I can," answered a meek voice, as what
appeared to be a bundle of rags leaped out of the dark, followed by the
poodle, who immediately sat down at the bare feet of his owner with a
watchful air, as if ready to assault any one who might approach too
near.
"Now, then, who are you, and how did you get here?" asked Mrs. Moss,
trying to speak sternly, though her motherly eyes were already full of
pity as they rested on the forlorn little figure before her.