Had not Walter scented trouble he would soon have been made aware of it by the excitement that prevailed in the Peeks' kennels. Every dog of the lot was barking furiously and with gleaming eyes and tail erect striving to communicate tidings of importance. Yet bark as they might, the message they sought to voice remained, alas, untold.
"If they could only speak we should soon know what has happened," bewailed the lad to Mrs. Crowninshield, as for the hundredth time they searched every nook and corner for a clue to the mystery.
"Yes, they know—poor little things," their mistress agreed. "They are trying their best to tell the story, too. I'd give worlds to know what it is."
"And I."
"You are certain you locked everything up when you took the other dogs out."
"Positive. Dick was with me and we both tried the gate before we started."
"Nothing seems to be disturbed."
"No. That is the strange part of it."
Mrs. Crowninshield stopped, hot and breathless from her search.
"I cannot believe but that the mite will turn up. Have you asked Jerry or Tim?"