Back where the broken plate had lain yesterday, Dr. Stone unhooked the leash and gave the dog the scent of the cap.
“Lady, find,” he urged. The tawny dog, as though puzzled by the absence of the leash, looked up inquiringly. “Find,” the man said again.
Lady, nose down, padded toward the orchard.
“Take me back, Joe.”
The boy had the feeling that they hung in air. Ira Close came out of the house with a finger freshly bandaged. Captain Tucker gave an exclamation of surprise.
“Doctor! Where’s the dog?”
Lady made her own answer. From some place in the near distance they heard her deep-toned, full-throated, insistent bark.
“Foster,” Dr. Stone said quietly, “I think Lady has found your boy.”
Two men began to run—Foster toward the orchard, Ira Close toward the road. To Joe Morrow the world whirled and spun. Dr. Stone cried, “Look out, Tucker; he has a gun.” The policeman leaped, and the hired man went down. With amazing quickness brawny arms turned Ira over, and the first shaft of sunlight glinted on a blue barrel.
“See if there are two exploded cartridges,” the doctor called.