Hearing it so near, Tom and Chot, for the moment, were quite startled. Then Chot exclaimed:
"It sounds just like Ruddy!"
He spoke aloud and the dog heard him—heard his own name. This was enough for the brown setter, for he it was who had barked. He had smelled his way back along the path over which the sailor had led him, until he reached the log cabin. Then had come to him the odor he knew so well—the scent of Chot with whom Ruddy had romped and played.
Then Ruddy barked loudly—the first, real bark he had given since he had been cut loose by the good sailor. And it was this bark that Chot and Tom heard.
"Do you s'pose it is Ruddy?" asked Tom.
"I hope so," murmured Chot.
Then the dog heard more plainly the voices—the voices of boys whom he knew. It was almost as good as if he had heard Rick's voice.
Once more Ruddy barked, and then he sprang forward, straight toward the cabin and the two lads on guard. Dimly, in the darkness of the night, Tom and Chot saw a dog bounding toward them, along the path that led to the front door of the old cabin.
"There he is!" cried Tom.
For a moment Chot thought perhaps it might be some other dog, maybe some half-wild sheep-killing dog that had come to dispute with them for the possession of the old cabin. But, an instant later, Ruddy was leaping and barking about his two friends, trying to get into their very arms, it seemed, he was so glad to be back with them again.