“Yes, sir,” mumbled Joel, taking a big bite of his biscuit; and for the next quarter of an hour he was safe, as the funny stories lasted till back went the chairs, and the evening meal was over.
To say that Joel's life was an easy one till bedtime, would be very far from the truth. Strange to say, David did not go to the closet once. To be sure, there was a narrow escape that made Joel's heart leap to his mouth.
“Let's have Mamsie's cake, Joe, to-night,” said David in an aside to him. The room was full of boys; it was just before study hour, and how to tell David of the dog, was racking Joe's powers of mind.
“Ugh!—no, not to-night, Dave.” He was so very decided that although David was puzzled at his manner, he gave it up without a question. And then came study hour when all the boys must be down in “Long Hall,” and Joel lingered behind the others. “I'll be down in a minute.” He flew over to the closet, broke off another generous wedge of Mamsie's cake, stifling a second sigh as he thought of the plums. “You haven't eaten my half yet,” he said as the dog swallowed it whole without winking. “Keep still now.” He slammed to the door again, and was off, his books under his arm.
And after the two boys went up to bed, David was too tired and sleepy to talk, and hopped into his bed so quickly that long before Joel was undressed he was off to dreamland.
“That's good,—now I haven't got to tell him till morning.” Joel went over to the other bed in the corner, and listened to the regular breathing, then tiptoed softly off to the closet, first putting out the light. “I know what I'm going to do.” He got down on all-fours, and put his hand out softly over the pile of shoes, till he felt the dog's mangy back. “I'm going to take you in my bed; you'll smother in here. Now, sir!” The dog was ready enough to be quiet, only occupied in licking Joel's hands. So Joel jumped into his bed, carrying his charge, and huddled down under the clothes.
After being quite sure that he was really to remain in this paradise, the dog began to turn around and around to find exactly the best position in which to settle down for the night. This took him so long, interrupted as the process was with so many lickings of Joel's brown face, that it looked as if neither would get very much sleep that night; Joel, not averse to this lengthy operation, hugging his dog and patting him, to his complete demoralization just as he was about to quiet down.
At last even Joel was tired, and his eyes drooped. “Now go to sleep”—with a final pat—“I'm going to call you Sinbad.” Joel, having always been mightily taken with Sinbad the Sailor, felt that no other name could be quite good enough for his new treasure. And Sinbad, realizing that a call to repose had actually been given, curled up, in as round a ball as he could, under Joel's chin, and both were soon sound asleep.
It was near the middle of the night. Joel had been dreaming of his old menagerie and circus he had once in the little brown house, in which there were not only trained dogs who could do the most wonderful things,—strange to say, now they were all of them yellow, and had stumpy tails,—but animals and reptiles of the most delightful variety, never seen in any other show on earth; when a noise, that at once suggested a boy screaming “Ow!” struck upon his ear, and brought him bolt upright in his bed. He pawed wildly around, but Sinbad was nowhere to be found.