The boys, deeply interested, waited impatiently while Old Sam turned a slice of bacon, and then continued, reminiscently:
“Waal, by the time I had fit my way as fur as from this stove to the door, I see Rover comin’ back with a little piece o’ white in his mouth. He swum much slower and feebler than he done at fust, and I could see that the strain was tellin’ on him turr’ble. I swum as fast as I could to meet him. Purty soon up he come, stickin’ on to that piece o’ white like he would sooner give up his own life than let go, but when he looked up at me so pitiful like I—I——” Here the old man choked and drew his hand hastily over his eyes, stealing a glance at the boys to see if they had noticed his weakness, but finding them all looking in the other direction, then, putting the bacon on the table, he went on:
“Waal, I put out my hand to take hold o’ the little child, an’ Rover, he let go jest too soon and the little one went under. I dove down, and soon felt the dress in my hand. When I got to the top, I jest nat’ally looked to see whar my Rover wuz, but I couldn’t see him nowhere. It hurt me turr’ble to go in without findin’ him, but I knowed my strength wouldn’t hold out much longer, so I had to use it while there wuz any left. Waal, I never could remember how I swum the rest o’ the way to shore, but I got thar some way, an’ found a crowd o’ people thar, glad enough to take the child after I had saved it. They told me how brave I wuz, too, but I turned on ’em, kind of fierce like, an’ said:
“‘It wuzn’t me as done it! It was my Rover, and he’s dead now. Dead, d’ye hear that?’ an’ then I jest walked away with my heart gone clean out o’ me. Ye see, my Rover wasn’t a water dog. He jest nat’ally hated the water, but the big, brave heart o’ him——” Here the old man’s voice grew husky, while Don, wistfully watchful, nestled close to him, looking up into his face with a great longing to comfort expressed in his beautiful eyes.
“Aye, lad,” and the voice was still unsteady, “aye, lad, ye have the look o’ my Rover!”
More than one of the boys dashed his hand across his eyes as he looked at the lonely old man with his arms around their Don’s neck.
In a moment Old Sam had pulled himself together, and called to the boys to “fall to,” upon which the boys brought forth their baskets and promptly carried out Old Sam’s suggestion. They avoided further mention of Rover, but their thoughts were often drawn back to the tragedy and in their hearts was a very tender spot for Rover’s master.
After dinner they all set out for the quarries. Sam, as he insisted upon the boys calling him, was as good as his word, showing them a much shorter road than the one they had intended to follow. In a short time they reached the quarry, and found they were in time to see some of the blasting done.
“Ye see,” Old Sam said, “owin’ to the late spring, all the snakes hasn’t left their snug bedding places in the rocks, but when the men comes around with their blastin’ the durned reptiles thinks it’s ’bout time fer them to be movin’. Ye wouldn’t believe it,” he went on, “but some o’ them critters curls up in a great big bunch durin’ the winter so’s they kin keep warm, and when they gits their walkin’ papers, it’s as easy as rollin’ off a log to ketch ’em, they take so long to get untangled.”
“But how do you catch them?” Jack had asked eagerly. “Isn’t there great danger of your being bitten?”