At last the girls between them had him caught. He was squeezed tight in Tibbie's arms, where he wriggled and twitched, covering her cheeks and ears with rapid dog-kisses, interspersed still with rapturous barks. "Oh, oh!" cried Tibbie, trying vainly to hold him still long enough to get a good kiss at him. "Isn't he soft? Isn't he sweet? And he has a yellow ribbon. Oh, do keep quiet, doggie dear—you tickle!"
"I don't think we will bother any more about seeing the hundred," said Sally, a feigned coldness in her tone, and stood aloof watching child and dog.
"I had forgotten, honest, Sally."
"Put him down and come on, then."
"Mayn't I hold him and come too?"
"No; for when you see 'em, you'll drop him so quick you'll like as not break his legs."
"All right. Down, Jetty! Down, sir! Come along, Jetty; come right along, dear!"
"Wait a minute. I'll go in first and turn up the light. When I sing out, you come on."
She went ahead, and Jetty precipitated himself at her heels. Tibbie stooped with anxious inducing noises, and "Come back, sir! Come back!"
"Ready!" shouted Sally.