“Oh, yes, Dr. Johns. We was expectin’ you. This here is the dawg you wrote about?”
“Yes, Mrs. Trimble. This is Vanart VI. May I see the place where he is to be housed during his stay?”
“Sure you can,” said Mrs. Trimble, leading the way. “He will be kept in that kennel right over there, and there’s clean straw in it.”
Dr. Johns looked around on a yard of ample proportions, where stood a dozen or so good-sized kennels, some distance apart. Several of these were occupied by dogs larger than Van. These were chained to their kennels separately, so they could not reach each other. At sight of Van they set up a chorus of barking and baying which was quite deafening. Van strained with all his little might to get at them, for the size of a dog never bothered him. He was no coward. But he was kept tightly on the chain, and all acquaintance had to be carried on from a distance.
“Them there is young huntin’ dawgs,” said Mrs. Trimble. “They’re bein’ trained to hunt birds. Some is p’inters and some is retrievers and some is setters. That there is a English setter, and these two fellers is Irish setters. They’re about the purtiest of the lot, but they’re all fine dawgs. We don’t get no mongrels here. I feed ’em, an’ I get to likin’ ’em purty well,” she continued in her soft voice.
“That there is a blood-hound. He’s bein’ trained to hunt folks. I don’t take much to that idea, but they’re useful sometimes, to catch criminals.”
Van did not understand what Mrs. Trimble said, but he liked her. She looked a little like Mary.
“Take good care of the little fellow, and see that he is taught not to kill cats and chickens. I believe he will learn easily if he is properly taught. He’s had no one to train him at home.” Dr. Johns looked at the kennel that was to become the home of royalty. “You will see that he is comfortable in the cold weather?”
All this time Pete had been hovering near. Already the brave, proud head and beautiful, shapely body had won the boy. Now he spoke:
“He’ll be here in the kennel daytimes. Nights I guess Pa’ll let him sleep in the house with me.” Then he added in a burst of confidence, “He’s sech a purty little feller; I guess he’s some dawg, too.”