breeds of dogs, was instantly manifest in Jerry and
Michael an Harley Kennan's voice rang out. They separated, and, despite
the rumbling of low growling in their throats, refrained from attacking
each other as they plunged out to the ground. The little set-to had
occurred in so few seconds, or fractions of seconds, that they had not
begun to betray recognition of each other until they were out of the
machine. They were still comically stiff-legged and bristly as they
aloofly sniffed noses.

"They know each other!" Villa cried. "Let's wait and see what they will
do."

As for Michael, he accepted, without surprise, the indubitable fact that
Jerry had come back out of the Nothingness. Things of this sort had
begun to happen rapidly, but it was not the things themselves, but the
connotations of them, that almost stunned him. If the man and woman,
whom he had last seen at Tulagi, and, likewise, Jerry, had come back from
the Nothingness, then could come, and might come at any moment, the
beloved Steward.

Instead of responding to Jerry, Michael sniffed and glanced about in
quest of Steward. Jerry's first expression of greeting and friendliness
took the form of a desire to run. He barked invitation to his brother,
scampered away half a dozen jumps, scampered back, and dabbed playfully
at Michael with one forepaw in added emphasis of invitation ere he
scampered away again.

For so many years had Michael not run with another dog, that at first
Jerry's invitation had little meaning to him. Nevertheless, such running
was an habitual expression of happiness and friendliness in dogdom, and
especially strong had been his inheritance of it from Terrence and Biddy,
the noted love-runners of the Solomons.

The next time Jerry dabbed at him with a paw, barked, and scurried away
in an enticing semi-circle, Michael started involuntarily though slowly
after him. But Michael did not bark; and, after half a dozen leaps, he
came to a full stop and looked to Villa and Harley for permission.

"All right, Michael," Harley called heartily, deliberately turning his
shoulder in the non-interest of consent as he extended his hand to help
Villa from the machine.

Michael sprang away again, and was numbly aware of an ancient joy as he
shouldered Jerry who shouldered against him as they ran side by side. But
most of the joy was Jerry's, as was the wildest of the skurrying and the
racing and the shouldering, of the body-wriggling, and