But as soon as he felt that he would do this, something struck him that Dan’l would be sure to think he had done it all out of mischief, and he knew that he could not tell him.
“Nobody will know,” he said to himself; “and I won’t tell. I didn’t mean to do any harm.”
“Dexter! Dexter!”
He looked in the direction from whence the sounds came, and could see Helen waving her handkerchief, as a signal for him to come in.
“Time to go,” he said to himself as he set off to her. “Nobody will know, so I shan’t tell him.”
And then he turned cold.
Only a few moments before he had left Dan’l growling in his den, and now here he was down the garden, stooping and picking up something.
For a few moments Dexter could not see what the something was, for the trees between them hindered the view, but directly after he made out that Dan’l had picked up a long stick, which had been thrown among the little apple-trees, and was carefully examining it.
The colour came into Dexter’s cheeks as he wondered whether Dan’l would know where that stick came from.
The colour would have been deeper still had he known that Dan’l had a splendid memory, and knew exactly where every stick or plant should be. In fact, Dan’l recognised that stick as having been taken from the end of the scarlet-runner row.