Henny obligingly explored the back of his brother's blouse, and fished out the last cooky, which they fed to Hero.
"Wisht we had some more," said Howell, as the cake disappeared. "Henny, you go up and see if you can't hook some of Beauty's biscuit."
"Naw! I don't want to. I want to play with the dog," answered Henny, "He's big enough to ride on. Stand up, old fellow, and let me get on your back."
"I'll tell you a scheme," cried Howl; "you run up-stairs and get one of mamma's shawl-straps, and we'll fix a harness for him, and make him ride us around the room."
"All right," agreed Henny, trotting out into the hall. At the door he met Lloyd. When she went into the room she found Howell lying on the floor, burrowing his head into the dog's side for a pillow. Hero did not like it, and, shaking himself free, walked across the room and lay down in another place.
Howl promptly followed, and pillowed his head on him again. Hero looked around with an appealing expression in his big, patient eyes, once more got up, crossed the room, and lay down in a corner. Howell followed him like a teasing mosquito.
"Don't bothah him, Howl," said Lloyd. "Don't you see that he doesn't like it?"
"But he makes such a nice, soft pillow," said the boy, once more burrowing his hard little head into Hero's ribs.
"He might snap at you if you tease him too much. I nevah saw him do it to any one, but nobody has evah teased him since he belonged to me."
"Is he your dog?" asked Howl, in surprise.