It was several minutes before she heard voices again.
"The cur hasn't been there long enough to know her. It won't make any difference," said Wallace, coming through the open doors. "But I'm sorry it got away."
"Where is Miss Pauline?" asked Harry, as he entered the house on his return from Westbury.
"She has found her dog, sir," answered Margaret, smiling. "She went to get him—with the racing car."
His brow darkened. "The advertisement was answered, you mean,
Margaret?"
"I think so, sir."
An hour later he walked into the garden and sat down on the rustic bench where he and Pauline had quarreled. He had just taken up his newspaper when he was startled by the spring of a small warm body fairly into his face. Lowering the torn paper, he saw Pauline's dog cavorting around the bench in circles of excitement.
The animal rushed towards him again, but did not leap this time. It came very near and, with braced feet, began to bark wildly.
Harry stood up. The dog, with another volley of barks, started towards the gate. Harry followed instinctively. The terrier dashed ahead of him, reached the, gate, returned, renewed the appealing barks, and again led the way.
In another minute Harry was following the urgent little guide. He was thoroughly stirred now. As the dog returned to him the second time, with its appealing yelps, he quickened his speed.