They tumbled out of the wagon, and were introduced by Jerry. Mr. Osgood declared heartily that he was very glad to meet them, especially as he had heard so much about them from Jerry, and was in the act of shaking hands all around when an interruption occurred. The interruption was in the form of Barry, who, released from the wagon, had spent a moment in running excitedly about the ground, and now was leaping enthusiastically upon the farmer, whining and barking joyously. Mr. Osgood stopped and looked down. Then an expression of deep surprise overspread his face.
“Well, I’ll be switched!” he said slowly. “Where under the sun did you come from, Laddie?”
There was a moment of silence save for the terrier’s frantic explanations. Jerry, unhitching the horses, paused and looked at Dan. Dan’s face was a study. He was striving very hard to keep from looking miserable. Finally,
“Is that your dog, sir?” he asked.
“It surely is,” answered Mr. Osgood. “He disappeared about two or three weeks ago. May I ask where you found him?”
So Dan, eagerly assisted by the others, recounted the tale of the terrier’s rescue and subsequent adventures, and the farmer listened interestedly. Then,
“Well, that’s what I call a plucky piece of work,” he said admiringly, “and I’m much obliged to you. I hadn’t had Laddie long, but I was getting mighty fond of him when he disappeared. And I’m glad to get him back.” He hesitated. “I advertised in the Barrington paper and offered ten dollars reward, and so—if you don’t mind taking it——”
But Dan shook his head.
“I’d rather not, sir,” he muttered. “Barry’s made it up to me lots of times. I—we—got quite fond of him, sir.”