Bobby felt very unhappy for a few days after she left, then began to make the best of it, and turned more than ever to his beloved companion, Nobbles. One afternoon he sat up in his favourite apple-tree watching the white high-road. Presently two boys came along chasing a poor miserable-looking little dog whose tail was tied to an old saucepan. The boys were pelting the saucepan with stones, and more often than not the stones hit the dog, and a yelp of pain was the result.
Bobby's eyes blazed. He forgot his smallness; he only thought of the tortured dog.
Shaking Nobbles furiously at them, he leant over the wall and shouted:
'Stop it, you cowards! I tells you to stop! If you don't, I'll come and make you!'
The boys looked up and laughed at the irate little figure.
'Come on!' they cried. 'We're ready for you, little 'un!'
The dog had fled into a ditch now, and cowered beneath some bramble bushes. The boys began to pelt him with stones to make him come out, and Bobby scrambled down from his tree.
'Come on, Nobbles,' he said; 'we'll drive them off, me and you together!'
He ran to the orchard gate, clambered over it (for it was locked), and was soon standing over the dog protectingly.
'You shan't touch him. I'll hit you if you do!'