For several minutes there was a long silence.
Then came an impish giggle.
"Here's Mr. Tompkins, mammy, but my! he do look funny. He don' look like he used ter look."
Again silence.
"Here he is, mammy. Here he is. What do you want to know?"
"Ask him," I said, "whether he is well and happy."
The hair rose on the back of my neck and a slow shiver ran down my spine as the answer came. The answer was the familiar barking of a dog—deep, strong, savage.
"Is that you, Ponto?" I asked.
The answering bark came "Woof! Woof!"
"Where is Mr. Tompkins?"