“He's glad to go, isn't he, Joel?” observed the instructor, to break the ice, and make conversation.
But no such effort was necessary, for Joel looked up brightly. “Isn't he, sir? Now say good-bye.” At last the string was loose, and dangling to the hook in the area wall, and Joel held the dog up, and stuck out his paw.
“Good-bye,” said Mr. Parr, laughing as he took it, and quite relieved to find that relations were not strained after all, as Joel, hugging his dog, sped hastily across the yard again to the master's house.
Dr. Marks never told how very ugly he found the dog, but, summoning the man who kept his garden and lawn in order, he consigned Sinbad to his care, with another note.
“Now, Joel,” he said, “you know this payment comes every week out of your allowance for this dog's keeping, eh? It is clearly understood, Joel?”
“Oh, yes, sir—yes!” shouted Joel.
“Perhaps we'll be able to find a good home for him. Well, good-bye, Sinbad,” said the master, as Sinbad, with the gardener's hand over his eyes, so that he could not see Joel, was marched off, Dr. Marks from the veranda charging that the note be delivered and read before leaving the dog.
“Oh, I'm going to take him home at vacation,” announced Joel decidedly.
“Indeed! Well, now, perhaps your grandfather won't care for him; you must not count too much upon it, my boy.” All the control in the world could not keep the master from smiling now.
“Oh, I guess he will.” Joel was in no wise disturbed by the doubt.