But Mary Jane didn’t have to answer that question. Before she could speak, a small boy came running along the street, crying as hard as he could cry and shouting between sobs, “I’ve lost my dog! I’ve lost my dog! Somebody’s stole my dog!”
“No they haven’t,” called Betty, “maybe this is yours!”
The little boy rubbed his eyes, looked through the fence—and a look of happiness spread over his small face.
“It’s him! It’s him! It’s him!” he shouted happily, “then he isn’t stole!”
It took only a minute to run around the gate, dash across the school yard and grab the tiny little dog into his arms. And the children could tell by the way the little creature snuggled down that the love wasn’t all on one side—evidently the little boy was a good master.
Right at that minute, before there was a chance to start a game or any play, a great bell in the school doorway began to ring. Mary Jane was used to a small school of course—a school so small that the teacher came to the window and simply called when recess was over. So she stared in amazement when the great bell rang out so noisily.
“Come on!” shouted Betty, “recess is over!”
“Soon as I tell this doggie good-by!” replied Mary Jane.
Betty didn’t hear and, supposing Mary Jane was right behind her, she went on into her place in line. And Mary Jane, remembering how leisurely folks went up after recess at her old school, didn’t pay any attention to the rapidly forming lines. She turned around and patted the tiny dog and nodded and smiled and whispered her good-by.
When she did turn to go in with Betty, she was amazed to see all the children had disappeared into the building. She scampered over to the door as fast as ever she could. And up the stairs—but not a soul did she see! Only the click of a closing door could be heard—a click that made Mary Jane feel really shut out and lonely.