But it was not towards her he was moving. Nor was it at her that his rapturously welcoming gaze was turned.
The dog was hurrying, with eyes aglint and plumy tail waving, toward a spot directly beside her. Thus had he advanced, many a time, to greet his master, when Dick had returned from brief absences and when Jock had seen him standing there with his arm thrown protectingly about his wife and his eyes smiling down into hers.
To humans, the tensely waiting woman would have seemed to be standing there in the moonlight, alone. But it was not into empty space that the advancing dog gazed so eagerly.
No one, seeing the collie then, could have doubted for an instant that Jock was looking at—Something!
CHUMS
ARNON FLINT had not volunteered to take the money-satchel to the bank. Indeed, he had tried hard to crawl out of the errand.
A tennis-hour, with a swim to follow, had beckoned right alluringly to him. There was no fun in missing all this and taking a hot trolley-ride into town just for the honour of acting as bearer, to the bank, of the church bazaar’s satchelful of change and small bills.
Arnon said so, with engaging frankness, at lunch that noon, when his mother told him of the task that had been deputed to him. Whereat his father looked up gloweringy; from his task of plate-clearing, and added his quota to the argument: