They continued to watch the distant people as they approached, but Mrs. Danvers did not see her boy. Suddenly, she was half crushed by a vigorous embrace, and turning, saw beside her, her son, but a very different son from him who had left her in the spring. Then, he had been a little fellow; now, he seemed to her a young man. Then, he was white, slender and listless; now, he was brown, broad-shouldered and boisterous. By his side stood a great grey dog, with lowered head and tail, looking up with suspicious eyes at the hurrying crowds about him.
"Why, Johnny, Johnny," said his mother, "can this be you? It isn't; I am sure it isn't. Will Sturgis, what have you done? I want my boy again. You have brought me a big bear."
Jack's father was hardly less astonished and delighted, but he showed less excitement.
"Yes," said Mr. Sturgis to his sister, "I have brought you back a very different boy from the one I took away. I think after you have had a chance to see him, and to talk with him, you will find that he is a better boy all around. In fact, I think I can say that when Jack left here six months ago he stopped being a boy and began to be a man."
"What is that enormous creature you have there, Johnny?"
"Why, mother, that's Swiftfoot, my tame wolf. He's as gentle as can be, and I expect you'll find him a real good house dog."
"Come along," said Mr. Danvers; "let us walk home. The night is fine, and I hardly thought it worth while to have the carriage here. Bring your checks along and we'll send up for the baggage right away."
Jack and his mother found the walk home a very short one. Mrs. Danvers took her son's arm and leaned on it, while Jack carried his rifle and led Swiftfoot with the other hand. He was happy to see his mother again, and proud to be leading his wolf through New York streets. He thought what fun it would be to show Swiftfoot to his old schoolmates here, none of whom had ever seen a wolf, and of how much he would have to tell them of the western life, about which they knew nothing.
When they reached the house, Aunt Hannah was lying in wait to bid her boy welcome. She had nursed him from his tiniest babyhood, and he was not surprised to have her throw her arms around him and kiss him, while tears of gladness ran down her cheeks. After a moment of congratulation from her, he dragged Swiftfoot forward, and said, "Here Hannah, is a new friend that I want you to like. It's Swiftfoot, my tame wolf."
"A wolf!" shrieked Hannah. "Oh, lordy!" And she flew through the dining-room and slammed the pantry door behind her.