“Bow-wow-wow-wow! Wow! Wow-wow-wow!”
He was hard at their heels. Gallant old fellow, no doubt he enjoyed many a hearty laugh over it all.
Hello! The vineyard! They had actually been running toward the house, instead of away from it. No wonder the dog was so excited.
Ned was a few feet in advance—a credit to his fleetness, but not to his courage—and in trying to tack and veer in a new direction he slipped, fell, and rolled down the slope, staying not for stalk nor trellis, clear to the bottom.
“And Jill (or Hal) came tumbling after!”
Still Ned clung to his precious melon, which by a succession of miracles was yet unbroken!
With a thump they landed in the dry ditch that cut along the foot of the vineyard. They vaulted the board fence just beyond, noting, at the same moment, that a light was glimmering in the upper story of the Belton house. Evidently the dog’s clamor had been heard.
The house was too close for comfort, but it gave them their bearings. Only a stretch of level pasture now remained between them and the road.
“Almost there! Keep going!” urged Ned.
“Bow-wow-wow! Bow-wow! Wow-wow! Wow!” bellowed their pursuer.