"Dad's borrowed him from Webster?" Harry suggested.
"It seemed to me Webster was mighty glad to get rid of him and didn't want him back," said Jake. "Guess if he was mine I wouldn't be anxious to keep him either."
Frank moved a pace or two nearer the dog, holding out his hand, but speedily retired when it growled at him savagely. After that Jake turned to Harry.
"You're fond of dogs," he suggested. "Wouldn't you like to pat him?"
"No," said Harry, edging away. "I wouldn't try it for five dollars. What kind of a brute is he?"
"Well," said Jake, "I figure that fellow has a considerable mixture of ancestors, though there's a strain of the bull in him. That's where he got his stylish mouth from. He's about as amiable as a timber-wolf, and he has the gait of a bear, while it's my opinion there's more sense in a plow ox than there is in him."
"When did you leave Webster's?" Harry next inquired.
"Soon as dinner was over," responded Jake dryly.
"And supper will be ready soon. What in the name of wonder have you been doing?" Harry looked around at Frank. "It's about three miles."
Jake grinned. "Coming along—and resting. This fellow kind of decided he'd sit down every now and then, and I let him. He's a dog that's been accustomed to doing just what he wants."