"Go back home, Jack!" he said.
Without a whimper, old Jack slowly wheeled, but he stopped and turned again and sat on his haunches—looking back.
"Go home, Jack!" Again the old dog trotted down the path and once more he turned.
"Home, Jack!" said Chad.
The eagle was a dim, black speck in the band of yellow that lay over the rim of the sinking sun, and after its flight, horse and rider took the westward way.