"Do you think Duncaster did it? Because he knew it was your animal?"
"He may have done so, but I doubt it. He's just naturally mean and cranky, and when he found Grit wandering about the street he probably notified a dog-catcher. I didn't think they were so strict when cool weather set in. Poor Grit! In a pound with a lot of curs! His feelings will be hurt."
In answer to Dick's inquiries one of the stable men stated that Cadet Porter had come and gotten Grit, leading him off by a leash attached to his collar.
"Did he say I said for him to take Grit?" asked the young millionaire.
"No, sir, I can't say as how he did. But he's been real friendly with the dog, Mr. Porter has, and Grit knows him. Mr. Porter and Mr. Weston went off together with him. I hope you don't blame me, Mr. Hamilton," and the man seemed a bit alarmed.
"No, it wasn't your fault. But, after this, please don't let any one take Grit without my permission. First thing I know he'll be stolen, and then Uncle Ezra will be as happy as a lark."
On the way to town Dick and Paul met Porter and Weston returning. The faces of both were flushed, and they were smoking cigarettes. Porter seemed ill at ease as he encountered Dick, and the latter resolving to settle the matter once and for all said:
"What right had you to take my dog, Porter?"
"I'm mighty sorry, Ham," was the contrite answer, and for a change Porter was not blustering and overbearing as he usually was. "You see I took him in, as I've done once before, and you didn't mind, but——"
"Yes, but this time I do mind!" exclaimed Dick sharply. "He got away from you, didn't he?"