Trevor peered into the closet and groaned. The floor was a mass of débris; shoes and garments from the hooks were writhed together madly; and everywhere was set the puppy’s mark of approval. Trevor gathered up the garments and returned them to their hooks. A cold, blunt nose thrust itself into the way. Trevor’s hand rose and fell smartly twice, and with a yelp the puppy retreated to the hearth-rug, where he turned and barked defiance.
Trevor observed him wrathfully for an instant, but his attitude of insulted dignity and his ferocious challenge to combat were so ludicrous that the boy subsided amid the wreckage and laughed until the tears came. And the puppy, bounding joyfully upon him, instantly forgiving, gurgled his pleasure and licked his hands, shoes, and face with whole-souled impartiality.
And upon this scene entered Dick!
Let us draw the curtain.
That night, long after Dick had dropped off to slumber, he was awakened by Trevor’s urgent voice.
“Dick! Dick! Wake up!”
“Wha-what’s the matter?” cried Dick, starting suddenly from sleep, and sitting up in bed with confused visions of fire and flood.
“I’ve found a name for him,” answered Trevor triumphantly.
“Name? What name? Who’s name?”