What was I to do?
I could not read the note. I opened it and moved my fingers over it as a blind person would, but could not feel a letter, as I might have known.
What was I to do?
Gyp would be going back. The letter would be gone, while the doctor might not know but what it had been lost.
What should I do?
There was only one thing, and that was to tie my handkerchief, my torn and frayed silk handkerchief, tightly to the dog’s collar.
“He will know that I am here, and alive,” I said to myself. “I wish I could send him word that Jimmy is here as well.”
I tried hard to think of some plan, but for a long time not one would come.
“I have it!” I said at last; and rapidly taking off the handkerchief I tied two knots fast in one corner.
“Perhaps he will understand that means two of us,” I said; and I was about to fasten it to the dog’s collar, when there was a noise outside as of some one moving, and Gyp dashed away from me and was gone.