From first to last the sinking of the well had caused Mr. Keith great anxiety, and it was a matter of rejoicing to him that the explosions were now safely over and the hard pan penetrated to a copious supply of water beneath.
“Shot stares at me and stares at me, and barks for nothing; but I don’t mind,” said Weezy, stroking the little terrier as he frisked up to her to be petted.
Kirke smiled approvingly. Shot was, indeed, a privileged character in these days and received few rebukes. He might even have been allowed to accompany his master to the Old World had not Captain Bradstreet looked upon the proposal with disfavor. Dogs were a nuisance in travelling, he said. They were a trouble and an expense, and always liable to get lost or stolen.
This settled it, and after mature reflection Kirke arranged to leave his dog and his burro with Manuel Carillo, a humble Spanish boy whom he liked very much. Manuel was fond of animals and would be kind to these, Kirke felt sure.
Kirke and Molly made numerous calls in the next few weeks, remarking to their friends,—
“We came to bid you good-by before we sail for Europe.”
And everybody said, “Oh, how I wish I were going too!”
Vacation came at last, and with it the long-looked-for day of departure. The party was to go by rail to New York, and after resting in that city a week take the steamer for Havre, France.
In New York the Rowes were to visit Mrs. Tracey, Mrs. Rowe’s sister, and she had promised to provide a nurse-girl to go to Europe with them and assume the care of little Donald.
It was nine o’clock in the morning when the travellers arrived at the railway station at Silver Gate City. Captain Bradstreet and Mr. Rowe checked the baggage, while Mrs. Rowe entered the car followed by The Happy Six.