“No, that’s so,” agreed Mrs. Martin. “But we’ll find him, I think, though it is strange he isn’t in the shed where he always sleeps at night. But wait until I look.”
She held the light high and low, all around the shed, but there was no sign of the pet dog. She called, and so did Ted and Janet, but Skyrocket did not answer with a whine, a bark or by a thump of his tail.
“Was this window closed when you put Skyrocket in here after supper?” asked Mrs. Martin of Teddy.
“Yes, I closed it,” answered the curly-headed boy. “I always shut it ’ceptin’ on hot nights, and it wasn’t so very hot to-night.”
“Well, if the window was closed, Skyrocket didn’t open it, that’s sure,” said Mrs. Martin. “He’s a smart dog, and he can do many tricks, but he can’t open the shed window.”
“Do you think he got out that way, Mother?” asked Jan.
“It looks so,” was the answer.
“Did somebody open the window and take Skyrocket out?” Ted wanted to know.
“They might have taken him out, or whistled for him to jump out to them,” said Mrs. Martin. “I’m sure I don’t see how else it could have happened. Skyrocket could jump up on the pile of wood, and from there jump out of the window, as long as it was open. Are you sure it was closed, Teddy boy?”
“Sure,” was the answer. “I ’member thinking was it hot enough to leave it open, and then I said it wasn’t. And I made the new piece of carpet all smooth, and Skyrocket curled up on it, and I told him goodnight. And then, when Janet and I came out to look and see if he was all right—why—he wasn’t here!” and Teddy, seven-year-old boy though he was, acted as if he might be going to cry.