“Gone off into the woods, I suppose,” said Ralph.
Hiram stood still a moment, utterly confounded, and wondering what all this could mean.
“I came to get my collar,” said Ralph, holding up the collar in his hand, “and if the fox has gone off, it is not my fault. You ought to have had a collar of your own.”
Hiram laments the loss of his fox.
Hiram was extremely grieved at the thought of having so wanton an injury inflicted upon him by his neighbor and playmate, and he turned toward the place where his fox had been kept with tears in his eyes. He looked all about, but the fox was nowhere to be seen. He then went slowly back to the house in great sorrow.
As for Ralph, he went back into his own garden in a very unamiable state of mind. He went up into the loft over the tool-house to put the collar away. He climbed up upon a bench in order to reach a high shelf above, and in so doing he knocked down a box of lucifer matches, which had been left exposed upon a corner of the shelf. He uttered a peevish exclamation at the occurrence of this accident, and then got down upon the floor to pick up the matches. He gathered all that he could readily find upon the floor, and put them in the box, and then put the box back again upon the shelf. Then he went away into the house.
Hope.
About two hours after this, just before dark, Hiram was sitting on the steps of the door at his father’s house, thinking mournfully of his loss, when he suddenly heard a very loud barking at the foot of the garden.
“There!” said he, starting up, greatly excited, “that’s Bruno, and he has found Foxy, I’ll engage.”