"Is it you, Oo-ma'-a-be?" I asked.
"Yes, I've been after my dog," he answered, getting into bed with his clothes on.
"Get up and undress; you can't sleep with your clothes on! What did you go after the dog for?"
"I wanted you to see him, and I thought we'd keep him here. He is a fine dog; he can swim too!"
"But were you not afraid? It was dark."
"I forgot all about being afraid, and I went right by that big grave too,—the one they say a ghost comes out of and chases people. I ran, though, all the way to my house. The dog was lying near the door; he was so glad to see me he almost knocked me down."
It was nearly morning, and we went right off to sleep. Suddenly we were aroused by a furious barking. Brush, Edwin, and I sprang out of bed, and rushed for the dog that with legs spread was defending the top of the stairs.
"Boys, what have you up there?" called Gray-beard from the foot.
"Edwin went after his dog last night," answered Brush. "He wants to keep it here."
"He does, eh! Will it bite?"