“So he is a ghost dog,” she remonstrated, gently, “but don’t you know I told you he was a real dog, too. He isn’t dead. He is only losted.”
“And when he barked just now was he barking as a ghost or a real dog?”
“He is a ghost,” she said, thoughtfully, “because I never see him in the streets now, but I guess his bark must have been real—it sounded so naturelle. Perhaps he is in the air,” and she looked up at the ceiling.
The Judge laughed and resumed his walk, but the dog question interested him considerably, especially later on when he took to meeting the same colored boy about town with a spotted dog at his heels. The dog had yellow eyes, and the Judge, knowing that if the boy remained in Riverport it would only be a question of time as to his meeting with Bethany, shuddered and shrank within himself, for he knew what the little girl would do.
CHAPTER XIII
Higby and the Owls
Until the coming of Bethany and Dallas the Judge had never seen Titus in contact with other boys and girls.
The boy had been brought up alone; when he wanted playmates he went abroad to seek them. He very seldom brought a boy home to play with him. The Judge had often remarked this, and had attributed the absence of children from his own house as an outward sign of Mrs. Blodgett’s inward dislike of “clutter.” However, since his adoption of Bethany and Dallas he had noticed that boys and girls came about the house quite freely.
There was therefore some other reason for their previous absence; and in his new interest in boy and girl study he decided that one child alone in a home is not a sufficient nucleus for a play place. He cannot gather round himself as great a variety of interests as several children can.
Another thing the Judge marveled at was the amazing strength of youthful character. Titus when alone had been submissive, patient, self-effacing. As soon as these other children had been introduced into the house he became self-assertive, particular as to his rights, and yet not disagreeable.
Even little Bethany had a strong character. Little men and women—grown people in miniature, the Judge often thought to himself as he gazed at the three young heads about his table.