“Well, perhaps they won’t,” said Rover. “But I’m sure you’ll be glad to get back.”
“No, I will not!” cried Don, and then he ran quickly and hid behind a lilac bush.
“What’s the matter?” asked Rover, in a barking whisper.
“Hush!” growled Don. “It’s your master. I don’t want him to see me here, for when Bob finds I am gone he will hunt for me, and your master may tell him I was here.”
“All right. Hide,” said Rover. “I won’t tell where you are. But, mind what I’m telling you. Very glad indeed you’ll be to get back home again!”
Don did not think so, and, after Rover’s master had passed on, the runaway dog came out of his hiding place in the bushes, and, saying good-by to the other dog, off Don went again, down the road.
“Well, I am certainly having a good time,” thought Don. “Squinty was right about it; there’s lots of fun in running away. No wonder he didn’t want to run back again.”
On and on trotted Don, stopping now and then to speak to other dogs he knew, and sometimes resting in the shade near a spring of water. Then off he would go again.
“Well,” thought Don, after a bit, “I am beginning to feel hungry. Let me see. What do you do when you get hungry if you are running away? I meant to ask Squinty about that, but I forgot it. I guess I can find something to eat.”