"Course I prayed for a dog," Rick answered. "Isn't it all right to pray for what you want?"
His mother did not answer that question.
"You can't keep him," she said.
"Why not?" and there was alarm in Rick's tone and glance as he stopped patting the brown head and looking into the brown eyes of Ruddy. "Why can't I keep my dog?"
"Because he isn't yours," answered his mother.
"But he came to me—in the night. Maybe he came up out of the sea, like Mazie said. Anyhow he was here waiting for me. Course he's my dog!" and the boy put his arms about Ruddy's neck.
"No, Rick dear," answered his mother. "This may be a nice dog, and you may like him very much, but he must belong to someone else."
"Then couldn't I keep him 'till someone comes for him?" asked the boy. "He likes me—look how he stays with me."
"Yes, a puppy will stay with anyone," said Mrs. Dalton. "But I don't want you to have a dog, Rick. I'm afraid of them."
"Not this one—not—not Ruddy!" exclaimed Rick, giving the dog that name as it seemed best to fit him. "Why he'd just love Mazie! He wouldn't bite her and he can't scratch like a cat. Please, mother, let me keep this dog! He's mine! He came to me in the night! He was here waiting for me when I came down to see if I'd got one!"