hat," chuckled Jack, "makes me think of that story of
the old man and his boy's bull-pup."

"I don't know that I've ever heard it, so fire away and tell the yarn,
Jack," the other pleaded.

"Why, once a boy had a young bull-pup of which he was very fond. His
father also took considerable interest in teaching the dog new tricks.
On one occasion the old man was down on his knees trying to make the
small dog jump at him, while the boy kept sicking him on. Suddenly the
bull-pup made a lunge forward and before the old man could draw back he
had gripped him by the nose, and held on like fun. Then the boy, only
thinking of how they had succeeded in tempting the small dog, clapped
his hands and commenced to dance around, shouting: 'Swing him around,
dad, swing him every which way! It's hard on you, of course, but I tell
you it'll be the making of the pup!'"

Toby laughed as Jack finished the anecdote, which it happened he had
never heard before.

"Well, Harmony will be dad, and the bull-pup I know turns out to be
Chester, bent on holding through thick and thin to victory. I'm glad you
came over, Jack, and if I've been able to hand you out a few pointers we
haven't wasted our time."

"I noticed when on the way here that it had clouded up," remarked Jack.
"Let's hope we don't get a storm that will compel us to postpone that
game. Our boys are in the pink of condition, with so much practice, and
might go stale by another week."

"That's another cause for anxiety, then," croaked Toby shrugging his
shoulders. "Here, I'll find my cap, and step outdoors with you. My eyes
are blinking after so much light, and a breath of fresh air wouldn't go
bad."

He had hardly said this than Toby stopped in his tracks.

"Listen, Jack, the fire-alarm bell! There's a blaze starting up, and
with so much wind blowing it may mean a big conflagration. Where did I
toss that cap of mine?"

"I saw something like a cap behind the rowing-machine over there when I
tried it out," observed the other, whose habit of noticing even the
smallest things often served him well.

"Just what it is," asserted Toby, after making a wild plunge in the
quarter designated; "that's my meanest trait, Jack. Mother tries to
break me of it ever so often, but I seem to go back again to the old
trick of carelessness. Now come on, and we'll rush out. Already I can
hear people beginning to shout."

They went downstairs two at a jump. For once Toby did not think of his
mot