A pretty girl of twelve or thirteen, with flower-like face, plump, and her blue eyes dancing and laughing in spite of her, ran in at the side gate. She had a covered basket of groceries on her arm, and was swathed in a raincoat with a close hood about her face.
“Agnes!” screamed Dot. “See what we’ve got! Just the nicest, friendfulnest dog——”
“Mercy, Dot! More animals?” was the older sister’s first comment.
“But he’s such a nice dog,” wailed Dot.
“And so hungry and wet,” added Tess.
“What fine eyes he has!” exclaimed Agnes, stooping down to pat the noble head. Instantly the dog’s pink tongue sought her hand and—Agnes was won!
“He’s splendid! he’s a fine old fellow!” she cried. “Of course we’ll keep him, Dot.”
“If Ruthie says so,” added Tess, with a loyalty to the oldest Corner House girl born of the fact that Ruth had mothered the brood of three younger sisters since their real mother had died three years previous.
“I dunno wot yo’ chillen want er dawg for,” complained Uncle Rufus.
“To keep chicken thieves away,” said Agnes, promptly, laughing roguishly at the grumbling black man.