“Wait,” advised Jack. “This is only the beginning. Not always will we have such good luck as we had to-day.”
Jack was right. The next day they could find nothing to eat until late in the afternoon. Then it was only a small bone which they divided between them.
It rained, too, and the water ran down through the lumber pile and got the dogs wet.
But Don could not find his way home, having traveled so far in the freight car. He tried to get back to Bob, but he could not, and Jack could not help him.
For several weeks Jack and Don lived together in the lumber pile, eating what and when they could. Sometimes other dogs would fight them, and try to take away their bones, but Jack and Don were both strong, and usually they kept what they found.
Don could go off by himself now, to find food, and one day, as he was off thus, searching in different ash cans, he had a sad adventure.
He had just found a nice bone, in some clean ashes, and was wiping it off on the grass, when he saw two men running toward him. One of them had a long net, on a pole, like the net Bob used for catching fish, and Don wondered what this was for. He soon found out.
“There’s a stray dog!” cried one of the men. “Get him, and we’ll take him away!” And the dog-catcher ran straight for Don.