The dog continued to whine, and exhibited signs of fear.
"Why now, little doggie," said Joe, "you won't have to do that jump if you don't want to. Come on now, jump into the tank. I'll stay out if you won't jump with me in at first."
Mr. Fleet put Toto down at the foot of the rope ladder which led to the top of the pole.
"Up you go!" he said.
But, instead, Toto, with whines and barks, jumped to the ground. Then, running away a short distance, the little dog turned and stood facing the platform of the tank. Toto growled and barked, and the hair on his spine stood up in a straight ridge.
The platform was hollow. It consisted of four uprights, and around them was a heavy and stiff piece of canvas, painted to resemble a mass of rock. On top of this seeming rock pile stood the glass tank.
"Why, Toto, what in the world is the matter?" asked Mr. Fleet.
Joe had a sudden idea.
"It's something—something under the platform," he said.
He and Mr. Fleet looked at each other. The same thought came to them both.