As he spoke, the Colonel was busily employed finishing the bandaging, and when this was done he stood thinking, while the dog lay quiet enough, blinking at those who had been operating upon him.
“We might secure his legs somehow,” said the Colonel, thoughtfully; “for all our success depends upon the next hour.”
But Grip solved the difficulty by stretching himself out on one side with his bandaged legs together, and, closing his eyes, went off fast asleep, with the boys watching him—the Colonel having gone into the house, for it had turned too dark for him to go on grape-thinning long before the canine surgery was at an end.
Chapter Forty One.
A Man’s Pursuits.
The boys watched beside the dog till past ten o’clock, when the Colonel came in and examined the bandages.
“Set quite hard,” he said, “and he’s sleeping fast enough. Nature always seems kind to injured animals. They curl up and go to sleep till they’re better.”
“Then you think he’ll get better, sir?” said Joe.