By that time, my dear master had arrived, and was sitting beside me.
Shall I ever forget that meeting! Master broke down. “My poor Boy—my poor Boy,” he said, and he took my head between his hands.
I was almost delirious with joy. I couldn’t stand up, so I just rolled over and over on the bed, and kicked in ecstasy.
“Lie still, lie still, Boy,” he said with tears in his eyes, and he gently pushed me back to my proper position. “My poor little lad—a regular sapper, engineer dog—dug yourself out of prison. Well, there’s one thing sure. You’ll never be in one again. I’ve bought a pair of police dogs, and they patrol the place day and night. You are a brave little doggie, but you have a good heart, and you don’t always know evil characters.”
As he spoke about German dogs, Oscar came pushing his muzzle toward him.
“You grand young animal,” said master, fondling him. “I can not be grateful enough to you. Granny Gorman,” and master called over his shoulder to the dear old woman who as of old was making him a cup of tea, “you must do something for your dog when you get your reward.”
Granny came toward the bed with her brown tea-pot in her hand. “What reward, sir?”
“The reward for finding my Boy. The cheque is all ready whenever you are.”
She made big round eyes at him, inside her widow’s cap. “Why, sir, the police caught those men.”
“You and your dog found my dog,” said master decidedly. “The money is yours.”