"But, my dear Cob, people who are drugged cannot help going to sleep."

"Drugged!"

"To be sure. Didn't you say that you drank a little water and
afterwards grew sleepy?"

"But I did not know it was the water."

"Here, let me look at your bottle and glass."

I took him into the office and showed him the empty receptacles and the
two patches on the floor.

"Clumsily done, Cob," he said after looking at and smelling them. "This
was done to keep anyone suspicious from examining the water. Yes, Cob,
you were drugged."

"Oh, Uncle Bob," I cried excitedly, "I hope I was!"

"I don't see why you need be so hopeful, but it is very evident that you
were. There, don't worry yourself about it, my boy. You always do your
duty and we've plenty to think of without that. We shall spoil two
breakfasts at home."

"But, uncle," I cried, clinging to his arm, "do you really think I may
believe that my sleepiness came from being drugged?"

"Yes, yes, yes," he cried half angrily. "Now are you satisfied? Come
and let's have a look at the dog."

I felt quite guilty at having forgotten poor Piter so long, and
descending with my uncle we were soon kneeling by the kennel.

He had not stirred since I put him in, but lay snoring heavily, and no
amount of shaking seemed to have the least effect.

"The poor brute has had a strong dose, Cob," said Uncle Bob, "and if we
don't do something he will never wake again."

"Oh, uncle!" I cried, for his words sent a pang through me. I did not
know how much I had grown to like the faithful piece of ugliness till my
uncle had spoken as he did.

"Yes, the wretches have almost done for him, and I'm glad of it."

"Glad!" I cried as I lifted poor Piter's head in my hand and stroked
it.

"Glad it was that which made the poor brute silent. I thought he had
turned useless through his not giving the alarm."

"Can't we do something, uncle?" I cried.

"I'm thinking, Cob," he replied, "it's not an easy thing to give dogs
antidotes, and besides we don't know what he has taken. Must be some
narcotic though. I know what we'll do. Here, carry him down to the
dam."

A number of the workmen were looking on stolidly and whispering to one
another as if interested in what we were going to do about the dog.
Some were in the yard smoking, some on the stairs, and every man's hands
were deep in his pockets.

"Say," shouted a voice as I carried the dog out into the yard, following
Uncle Bob w