"Say, he's a good one all right!" declared Chot, after looking Ruddy over. "He's a hunting dog!"
"Is he?" asked Rick.
"Sure! You can tell by his ears. He's got almost regular hound dog ears, and hounds are hunting dogs." Chot was a bit wrong about Ruddy's ears, however. They were not those of a hound.
"He's a nice dog, and I like him!" declared Mazie. "Look how funny he's smelling of you, Chot."
Ruddy was, indeed, sniffing around the legs of the new boy. But that was so Ruddy would know Rick's friend again. Ruddy could not depend on his eyes. He might not see Chot some day when he passed his master's chum, and Ruddy wanted to know, and be known, by all Rick's friends. So, now, in the back part of his head, where he could always get at it with his nose, Ruddy was putting away, so he could remember it, a little part of the mysterious man-smell that made Chot different from every other boy.
It was as if you should write on a paper the names of your different friends, so you would not forget them when you met them again. But, as dogs can not write, they have to carry in their heads and noses the memory of the smell of their friends. So Ruddy was getting to know Chot.
Rick loosed the rope from his pet's neck, and now Ruddy could frisk about as much as he pleased. He was leaping around the two boys, while Mazie went in the house to change her dress, when, all at once, Ruddy caught a whiff of something that always set him half wild. It was the smell of cat, and he, like all dogs, was always ready to chase a cat.
A gray tabby, who lived next door to the Dalton family, had jumped over the fence. Very often this cat found bits of good things to eat in the Dalton garbage can. So Sallie, as the cat was called, came to get something to eat. She did not know Ruddy was there. Never before had the Daltons kept a dog.
But, in an instant, Ruddy was ready for his first real hunt. He had never chased a cat before, though once one had chased him. And now, with a joyful yelp and bark, Ruddy started running after Sallie.