she was selling the dog to spite the
lad, and that, in withdrawing him, she was actuated by some sinister
motive. Sympathizing with Leon, against whom he had none of the
prejudices of the neighborhood, he turned now to Miss Grath and said:

"You told me to sell him for what he would fetch. It's too late now to
draw back."

"It an't too late," screamed the infuriated woman; "it's my dog, and I
sha'n't sell him."

"Oh, you won't," said Mr. Potter. "'The best-laid plans of mice and
men aft gang aglee.' Dr. Medjora gets the dog at twenty dollars."

"It's no sale! It's no sale!" cried out Miss Grath. "'T ain't legal to
sell my property agin my word."

"Now, look here, Miss Grath," said Mr. Potter; "I'm here to sell, and
whatever I sell is sold. That dog's sold, and that settles it. If you
dispute it, you jes' say so, right now, and you kin sell the rest of
this farm yourself. Now decide quick! Is the sale of that dog all
straight?"

Miss Grath, despite her anger, was shrewd enough to see that her
interests would be ruined if she suspended the sale. She could never
hope to get the crowd together again, and no other auctioneer would
obtain such good prices. So she was obliged to yield, though she did
so with little grace.

"Oh! I 'spose ef you choose to be ugly 'bout it, I hain't got nothin'
more to say. Dr. Medjora kin have the dog, an' much good may it do
him. I hope he'll regret buyin' it, some day."

And so, through the cleverness of Mr. Potter, the poet-auctioneer,
when Dr. Medjora and Leon started for New York on the following
morning the collie went with them.

CHAPTER IV.

AN OMINOUS WELCOME.

Leon at this time was about twenty years old, but, as we have seen, he
had already passed the crisis in his life which made a man of him. He
was a curious product, considered as a New England country boy.
Despite the fact that all of his life had been passed on the farm,
except a brief period when he had been sent to another section,
equally rural, he had adopted none of the idioms peculiar to the
people about him. Without any noteworthy schooling, he could boast of
being something of a scholar. I have already mentioned his
predilection for the higher order of books, and by reading these he
had undoubtedly obtained a glimpse of a vast field of learning; but
one may place his eye to a crack in a door and see a large part of the
horizon, yet the door hides much more than the crack reveals, and the
observer