The little brown dog turned to regard her with surprise, and that gave the girls an opportunity to catch up with him. But before they could lay restraining hands upon him, he made another bolt for the rhododendron bush.
As Wags snapped up the bit of paper in his mouth, Doris and Kitty made a flying leap toward him. In the mad scramble the girls lost their balance and at the same moment clutched at the rhododendron branches for support. To their horror, their combined weight uprooted the bush and it suddenly gave way from the soft earth, sending them sprawling backwards.
Still clutching part of the bush they picked themselves up and looked to see what had become of Wags. He was standing not three yards away regarding them with saucy little eyes which seemed to say: “If you want this old paper just try to get it!”
They tried to coax him nearer, but he would not come, and as soon as they started toward him he would dart away, only to pause whenever they showed signs of giving up the chase. At last they managed to drive him into a corner and there, with considerable impatience, extracted the note from between his teeth.
Returning to the Misses Gates they humbly apologized for having broken the rhododendron bush, but the ladies had thoroughly enjoyed the wild chase and assured them that it was of no consequence.
“We had been planning to have that bush dug out,” Azalea laughed, “but you girls saved us the bother.”
“I think it very romantic to have a love letter delivered by airplane,” Iris declared.
Doris blushed.
“Oh, it isn’t a love letter,” she returned as she ripped open the envelope. “Dave isn’t a bit silly.”
Perhaps because she wished to prove her statement, she read the note aloud: