“That will come in good time, lad, never fear,” Keeper Downey said cheerily; “but you’ll be called upon to wait patiently until warmer weather is here. In the meantime we’ve something important on hand to-morrow.”
Benny looked at him questioningly, and the keeper asked:
“Have you forgotten that the uniform should be done by this time, and to-morrow’s my day for going into the city?”
“I didn’t forget it, sir.”
“Then why hadn’t you spoken about it?” Joe Cushing asked impatiently.
“I was afraid perhaps Mr. Downey had changed his mind about going to the city, and besides I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t wait.”
“There’s little fear of your being too forward, my lad,” Sam Hardy said with a hearty laugh. “We must see to it that you’re called regularly to meals, or you’ll get the idea that perhaps we’d like it better if you missed one or two. The uniform is to be here to-morrow, an’ if anything had prevented the keeper from going to town, I’d pulled in and back myself, for I’m mighty anxious to see you togged out in proper fashion, even if you do feel so moderate about it.”
“Of course I want the uniform,” Benny added quickly; “but I’d rather wait a week than have any of the crew put themselves out to get it.”
Then the lad, holding the dog affectionately in his arms, ascended the stairs to the sleeping quarters, and when he had disappeared from view, Sam Hardy said emphatically:
“Accordin’ to my way of thinkin’, it’s seldom you run across so good a lad as No. 8.”