No sooner did he hear this summons, faint though it was, from his young mistress, than any uncertainty which may have obscured his mind as to what the Captain meant by telling him to “fetch her out,” at once disappeared; and Rover, uttering a short, sharp, expressive bark, to show that he now understood what was expected of him, boldly plunged into the thicket with a bound.
“Chuck, chuck, chuck! Whir–r–r–ur,” and a blackbird flew out, dashing in the Captain’s face; while, at the same time, another piercing screech came from Nellie— “Ah–h–ah! Help!”
The old sailor was so startled that he jumped back, his hat tumbling off into a bramble-bush.
“Zounds!” he exclaimed. “What the dickens is that?”
In a moment, however, he recovered himself.
“Pooh, what a fool I am!” he said, ashamed of the slight weakness he had displayed, and hoping neither of the boys had noticed it; and then, to show how cool and collected he was, he whistled up the retriever. “Whee-ee-up, Rover, fetch her out, good dog!”
Rover did not need this adjuration, not he.
Even as the Captain spoke, there was a rustling and tramping in the thicket, accompanied by the snapping of twigs; and, almost at the same instant, the dog dashed out from amidst the brushwood with Nellie holding on to his tail.
“Oh my!” ejaculated Dick, rushing to her side; and, with the assistance of Bob, who also emerged from the prickly cavern at the same time, she was got on her feet— “Poor Nell!”
She presented a sorry spectacle.