This idea appealed to the child.
“Sure!” he said. “I’ll find him, mom. You just let me alone, and I’ll find him for you, all right!”
“You said you couldn’t remember what the dog was like.”
“Yes, I know. But I remember the street where it was, an’ I’ll go back there tomorrow,” Leroy declared. “I could stay out o’ school jist in the mornin’ and jist—ferret it out. I got lots of clews. An’ I bet you—”
“I’ll go with you now,” said Anderson.
The agitated mother didn’t even thank him.
“Perhaps that would be a good idea,” she admitted. “You might try it, anyhow, and see.”
So Leroy was fortified against the rain in oilskins and rubbers, and he and Mr. Anderson set forth together in quest of the dog. The small boy was highly pleased with the adventure; he did not often have an opportunity to frolic in the rain, and he made the most of it, caracoling before Anderson like a sportive colt. Sandy, too, would have enjoyed it, but he was tied up.
“One dog at a time,” said Anderson.
“Now, young feller, let’s hear about it.”