Farmer Long’s six-acre field was nearly a quarter of a mile away, but the children reached it in good time, and Fly looked down with interest on the scene of David’s excavations. The hole, which must have given the little boy considerable labor, was nearly three feet deep, and about a foot wide. In the bottom lay a large beef bone.
“He won’t like it much!” said David. “His teeth aren’t good; he can only eat chicken bones, but hunger will make him nibble it by-and-by. Now, Fly, will you go behind that furze bush and bring me a square, flat board, which you will find there?”
“What a funny board!” said Fly, returning in a moment. “It’s all over little square holes.”
“Those are for him to breathe through,” said David. “Now, then, master, here you go! You won’t annoy any one in particular here, unless, perhaps, you interfere with Mr. Bull’s arrangements. Hold the board over the top of the hole, so, Fly. Now then, I hope you’ll enjoy yourself, my dear amiable little friend.”
The bandage which firmly bound Scorpion’s mouth was removed. He was popped into the hole, and the wooden cover made fast over the top. The children went home, vowing eternal secrecy, which not even tortures should wring from them.
At breakfast that morning Mrs. Cameron appeared late on the scene. Her eyes were red with weeping. She also looked extremely cross.
“Helen, I must request you to have some fresh coffee made for me. I cannot bear half cold coffee. Daisy, have the goodness to ring the bell. Yes, my dear children, I am late. I have a sad reason for being late; the dog is nowhere to be found.”
A gleam of satisfaction filled each young face. Fly crimsoning greatly, lowered her eyes; but David looked tranquilly full at Mrs. Cameron.
“Is it that nice little Scorpion?” he asked. “I’m awfully sorry, but I suppose he went for a walk.”
Mrs. Cameron glanced with interest at David’s sympathetic face.