Saturn became a favourite object with Tom, who was never weary of gazing at the bright ring of light spread around the planet, which he could almost fancy he saw spinning as it glided across the field of the glass. Jupiter and his four moons, the former dull and scored with rings, the latter brilliant specks, had their turn; and soon books, which he had before looked upon as tedious and dry, became of intense interest; but Uncle Richard said that they must have a more perfect plane mirror.
Then came a bright wintry day, when Tom was out having a brisk run, and to his surprise he came upon Pete Warboys, who made a rush into the woods and disappeared, leaving his dog behind.
“Then he has come back,” said Tom to himself; and he stared at the dog, which stood looking at him—and the whole scene of the fight, and then the surgical operation upon the dog’s nose, came back.
“Then you did get well again, old chap,” said Tom sharply.
That was enough: the dog rushed forward, barking loudly, danced round him, and then bounded up the bank leading into the wood, where it turned to stand wagging its long thin tail, whisked round again, after giving another bark, and then bounded after its master.
“Come, I’ve made friends with him,” said Tom, “anyhow.” And though disappointed by Pete’s return after a long stay with some gipsy-like relatives of his grandmother, he could not help feeling glad that the dog displayed some gratitude for what had been done.
“Pete Warboys has come back, David,” cried Tom, hurrying down the garden as soon as he had ended his walk.
“Yes, bad luck to him, sir. I was going to tell you. I heared of it ’bout an hour ago. Been a-gipsying, I expect, with some of their people, who’ve got a door-mat van, and goes about with a screwy old horse. We shall be having some nice games again.”
“Not after the fruit, David.”
“Well, no, sir, ’cause there arn’t none. It’ll be eggs and chickens, and the keepers round about ’ll know my gentleman’s here. Say, Master Tom?”