“She has been perfectly upset about you,” he said, “and Amarilla. The little dog is pining away, and looks like a skeleton. We did not know that she was so fond of you. The veterinary says that if you do not return soon, she will die. As soon as I had the telephone message from police headquarters here, I shouted the news of your recovery through the house, and Amarilla acted like a wild creature. Afterward, for she has little strength, she fell down exhausted.”
I was terribly excited at this news. I tried to stagger to my feet. I whined, and begged him to take me home.
“I don’t believe it would hurt you,” he said good-humouredly, “though I forgot to ask your physician.” He laughed at me as he said this, and went to the telephone.
“It hasn’t been mended, sir, since those young rascals cut it,” said Granny.
“Then I’ll run over and see him in my car,” said master, and he went to the door.
Pretty soon he came back. “It’s all right, Boy. Come along, we’ll go home.”
Granny Gorman carried out pillows and coverlets, and put a hot water bottle beside me, for the afternoon was cold. Wasn’t I a happy dog!—Master whistled like a boy, as we sped on our way home.
I lay as snug as possible on the floor of the racing-car, but it seemed a long time before we got on the Pleasant River Road, although we were going like the wind.
However, we came at last within sight of the lights of the avenue. I heard master say, “Hello! Baron Ledgar, jump right in. We’re open to inspection,” and he stopped suddenly.
A powerful German police dog stepped in cautiously beside me, and nosed my bundle of wraps.