“Yes, he’s lovely,” Janet said. “I wish we had him.”
The dog must have heard the friendly voices of the children, for he wagged his tail. Then he looked at the lady. She had her eyes on the book and did not notice him. The dog thought it was a good chance to run away and have fun with somebody who loved dogs.
So over he ran to Ted and Janet and soon he was having a grand time with them, running after and bringing back sticks they threw for him, scrambling about, climbing all over them and covering them with sand.
At last the lady became aware that her dog had strayed away. She looked up and cried in a severe voice:
“Toto, come here this instant!”
The little dog dropped his tail between his legs, looked very much ashamed, and crept back to his proud and haughty mistress.
“Come on! Let’s go back in the water and get washed off!” called Ted to his sister, for the dog had spattered them all over with sand.
“All right,” Janet answered. “I’ll be in first!” she shouted, as she raced for the edge of the surf.
“You will not! I’ll beat!” cried Ted.
He leaped to his feet, but one foot slipped on a round stick—one of the sticks he had been tossing for Toto to race after. Down fell the little Curlytop boy in a heap on the sand, almost as soon as he had risen.