Farther down, outside a closed fruit shop, were some empty baskets, and on one of these he sat down, his elbows on his knees, and his face cupped in his hands. A cooling breeze came from one of the side streets leading up to the first slopes of Mount Lycabettus,[14] and though Aleko drowsed a little as he sat there, he did not feel inclined to return to his cellar.
Suddenly, behind him came a soft patter and something sniffed at his bare ankles.
He jumped up, overturning the basket.
“Solon!”
And Solon it was, not smooth and white and clean as usual, but muddy, and draggled, and gray with dust.
“You bad dog! How did you find yourself here? Do you know that your master is searching for you in all the town? Do you know that he has paid money to have it printed in the newspaper that you are lost? Are you not ashamed then? Bad dog!”
Solon did not like this tone of voice so he sat up and begged with his dusty little forepaws. All at once, Aleko saw that a broken piece of coarse string was tied round the dog’s neck.
“Bah! Your master was right then that you had been stolen! Some one tried to tie you up, and you must have broken the string and run away. You are a very clever dog! Bravo, Solon!”
Solon opened his mouth very wide and curled up his tongue in a long yawn.
“Come, I will carry you home so that you may not stray again.” And Aleko stooped to pick him up; but as he did so, a man who was coming along the other side of the pavement some distance off, a tall man wearing a Panama hat, called out loudly:—