"And you don't equal him as a shot yet, eh?"
"No, sir! no, indeed! Why, even cousin Cal Conly—a big man—can't shoot as well as papa."
"What an ugly dog!" exclaimed the other children, gathering round.
"What did you buy it for, papa?" asked Gertrude.
"Not for beauty, certainly," laughed Mr. Ross, stroking and patting the shaggy head of the dog, who was covered with curly hair of a dirty white, mottled with dull brown, "but for worth which is far better. Isn't it, Ranger?"
A wag of his bushy tail, was Ranger's only reply.
"Will he bite?" asked little Herbert, shrinking back as the newcomer turned toward him.
"Tramps and burglars; but not good children," replied Mr. Ross. "You needn't be afraid of him, my little man."
Through the evening there was a great deal of romping between the children and the new dog, but little Elsie seemed unusually quiet, scarcely stirring from her mother's side. She was suffering with toothache, but kept her trouble to herself; principally, because she had a great dread of the dentist's instruments.
But in the night the pain grew so severe that she could not keep from crying and groaning. She did not want to wake any one, so buried her face in the pillow to smother the sound of her sobs; but presently a gentle hand touched her caressingly, and mamma's sweet voice asked, "What ails my little daughter?"