"Yes, I will, honest."
"Cross your throat."
Tim went through the ceremony of crossing his throat to make his promise more solemn, and search was made for the cow.
Up to this time it was plain that Sam did not feel any great amount of love for or confidence in Tip; but when, after a few moments' search, his loud bark told that he had discovered the missing cow, his future was assured so far as Sam Simpson was concerned.
"Now that's somethin' like," he said, after they had started homeward. "When you've got such a dog as that, all a feller's got to do is to sit down an' send him after 'em. It's the awfulest hateful thing in the world to go off huntin' cows when you don't want to."
Tim had many and serious doubts as to whether Tip could be depended on to go for the cows alone, but he did not think it best to put those doubts in words, lest he should deprive his pet of his new-found friend.
It was only a ten minutes' walk to Sam's home, and when the cow had been led to her stall Tim proposed that Sam should ask permission for him to sleep in the barn.
"There's time enough for that when we come back," was Sam's reply, the thought of the candy he was to have in case they reached the store before it was closed for the night driving all else from his mind. "Come on; we'll catch Mr. Coburn if we hurry."
Now Tim would much rather have had the question settled as to his sleeping quarters before starting out for pleasure; but Sam was so eager for the promised feast that he felt obliged to do as he said, more especially since it was through his influence that he hoped to receive the favor.
Naturally Sam Simpson was not a quick-motioned boy, but no one could have complained of the speed with which he went toward Mr. Coburn's store that night, and Tim found it hard work to keep pace with him.