"You're starved, poor old chaps!" remarked he aloud. "Well, no matter. You shall have your dinner right off now."
Coaxing them in he banged the wicket behind him and passed through into the pen where the Pekingese, clamoring for their food, came yelping to meet him.
Instinctively he scanned the fluffy-coated group. Lola was not there.
The discovery, however, caused him no concern for often Mrs. Crowninshield carried the prize-winner up to the big house or took her for a ride in the car. Therefore, although her bright eyes were missing he did not worry, but fed the other dogs and gave them fresh water.
The task completed, he sauntered toward the garage.
How still it was everywhere. With the exception of Dick's racer every car was gone and all the chauffeurs with them. Even Jerry was nowhere about; and the gardeners were far down on the south slope where he could just detect the clip of their shears as they trimmed the privet hedge.
The grounds were as deserted as if the earth had swallowed up every inhabitant. Surfside, deprived of its accustomed hum and bustle, was actually lonely. With uncertain step the boy loitered in the sun, glancing at the expanse of sea and at a knockabout that heeled dangerously in the rising wind. Thinking he might find Jerry and thus banish solitude he meandered up the avenue toward the house.
Jerry, however, was nowhere to be seen but the silence was broken by the siren horns of approaching motors and the Crowninshield cars came rolling in through the broad entrance.
Since he chanced to be on the spot he may as well go up to the veranda, meet the family, and bring Lola back with him to be fed and tucked up for the night.
Accordingly he hurried along and was at the steps almost as soon as the automobiles came to a stop.