“You’ll find nothing like that here,” said Jack. “Such things are only for rich dogs, with homes. But never mind. I have a good sleeping place under some boards in a lumber yard. I’ll take you there to-night, and we’ll sleep together.”
“That is very good of you,” said Don. “And if I find anything to eat, I’ll give you half.”
The two dogs looked longingly at the meat in the butcher shop. In the window sat a fat cat, and it seemed as though she blinked her eyes at the dogs. She was not afraid of them.
“Just think of it!” cried Jack. “That cat has all the meat she wants, and we have to be glad of even scraps from an ash can.”
“Well, it serves me right for running away,” thought Don to himself.
He and Jack managed to find a little meat that day, but it was not much. They drank from a mud puddle, and were glad enough to do so. Then, worn out, tired and dusty, that night Jack and Don went to the lumber yard to sleep.
“Haven’t you any cushions, or anything like that?” asked Don, as he saw a space under some bare boards, which Jack said was the bed.
“Nothing like that,” said Jack, with a bark. “I’m glad enough to have a sheltered place, without cushions.”
Poor Don was so tired that he fell asleep almost at once. And he dreamed that he was back in his kennel at the farm, lying in the warm straw, and that in front of him was a big bowl of milk and a plate of juicy bones.