And then a curious thing happened.
No sooner had Teddy mentioned the name “Skyrocket” than the dog, which had been slowly and tremblingly creeping toward the Gypsy, turned, and, with a joyful bark, sprang toward the Curlytop boy and girl. In another instant he was being hugged in their arms.
“I guess that shows whose dog he is!” said Mr. Blake.
“I should say so!” cried the farmer. “How then, Mr. Gypsy, what have you to say for yourself? Where did you get that dog which belongs to these children?”
“That’s my dog!” said the Gypsy again.
“Your dog! He’s only your dog because you found him, or took him away from his home!” cried Uncle Ben. “You’ve beaten him and made him afraid of you while you’ve had him, but you sha’n’t have him any more. Curlytops, that’s Skyrocket sure enough. He knows his name when you speak it only once, and he came to you without calling, while he was afraid of this Gypsy. Now you have your dog back!”
“And we’ll never let him go again!” said Janet.
“Now look here, you Gypsies!” said Mr. Addison in a stern voice. “You’ll be allowed to camp here just as long as you behave yourselves, and no longer. Get rid of that yellow dog that kills sheep and chickens, and don’t take any more pet dogs and you’ll be better off. Remember what I say—don’t take any more pet dogs that belong to children!” and he shook his finger warningly at the dark-skinned man.
“I didn’t know it was their dog!” growled the Gypsy. “He came to me on the road and I kept him.”
“Well, maybe he did, and maybe he didn’t,” went on the deputy sheriff. “Anyhow we’ve found what we came after and you heard what I said. We’ll be on the watch now. And you get rid of that bad yellow dog!”