the dog, he made his way, in a wide detour, toward the barn
and lunch.

Sonya ran up on the veranda after Lad. As he laid himself heavily down,
under the hammock, she sat on the floor beside him; taking his head in
her lap, stroking its silken fur and beginning to sing to him in that
high-pitched crooning little voice of hers.

Laddie loved this. And he loved the soft caress of her hand. It soothed
him to sleep.

It was good to sleep. He had just undergone more vehement exertion and
excitement than had been his for many a long month. And he had earned
his rest. It was sweet to doze like this--petted and sung to.

It was not well to exercise body and emotions as he had just done. Lad
realized that, now;--now that it was all over and he could rest. Rest!
Yes, it was good to rest,--to be smoothed and crooned at. It was thus
the Mistress had stroked and crooned to him, so many thousand times.
And always Lad had loved it.

It was well to be at home and to be sinking so pleasantly to sleep;
here at the Place he had guarded since before he could remember--the
Place where he and the Mistress and the Master had had such splendid
times; where he and his long-dead mate, Lady, had romped; where he had
played with and trained his fiery little son, Wolf; and where every
inch of the dear land was alive with wonderful memories to him.

He had had a full, happy, rich life. And now, in its twilight, rest was
as grateful as action once had been.

The morning air was warm and it was heavy with flower and field,
scents; and with the breath of the forests where so often Lad had led
the tearing run of the collie pack and in whose snowy depths he once
had fought for his life against Wolf and the huge crossbreed, Rex. That
was ever so long ago.

The Mistress and the Master were coming home. Lad knew that. He could
not have told how he knew it. In earlier years, he had known their car
was bringing them home to him, while it was still a mile or more
distant from the Place;--had known and had cantered forth to meet it.

He was too tired, just now, to do that. At least, until he had slept
for a moment or two. Always, until now, the Mistress and the Master had
been first, with Lad. Now, for some odd reason, sleep was first.

And he slept;--deeply, wearily.

Presently, as he slept, he sighed and then quivered a little. After
that, he lay still. The great heart, very quietly, had stopped beating.

Into the driveway, from the main road, a