bling up the hill from their long
swim in the creek, it would be hard to say which group was most tired.

"I'm sure we'll all want to turn in early to-night," said Mrs. Walton at
supper. Freddy was yawning widely, and Elise was almost asleep over her
plate. "You are all tired."

"All but Hero," said Miss Allison, offering him a chicken bone. "He rested
while the others played. You'd like to go through your game every day.
Wouldn't you, old boy?"

There was no story-telling around the camp-fire that night. They gathered
around it, even before the light died out in the sky. Ranald had his
guitar and Allison her mandolin, and they thrummed accompaniments awhile
for the others to sing. But a mighty yawn catching Margery in the middle
of a verse, and Mrs. Walton discovering both Jamie and Freddy sound asleep
on the rug beside her, she proposed that they all go to bed an hour
earlier than usual.

The Little Captain vowed he was too sleepy to blow a single toot on his
bugle, so they went to their tents without the usual sounding of taps. It
was not long before every child was asleep, worn out by the day's hard
play. Mrs. Walton lay awake sometime listening to the sounds outside the
tent. The crackling of underbrush and rustle of dry leaves was familiar
enough in the daytime, but they seemed strangely ominous now that the
lights were out. She could not help thinking of what the Colonel had told
her of the escaped panther. She imagined the panic it would make if it
should suddenly appear in their midst. Then she thought of Hero's
protecting presence, and, raising herself on her elbow, she looked across
the tent to where she knew he lay asleep. At first she could not see even
the ruff of white that made the collar around his tawny throat, for the
moon had slipped behind a cloud, but as she raised herself on her elbow,
and peered intently through the darkness, the faint misty light shone out
again, and she saw Hero plainly, the Little Colonel's outstretched hand
resting on his broad back. Then she lay down again, this time to sleep,
and soon all the little camp was wrapped in the peace and rest of perfect
silence.

Half an hour later Hero lifted his head from between his paws and
listened. Something seemed calling him. He did not know what. Being only a
dog, he could not analyse the thoughts passing through his brain. A
restlessness seized him. He longed to be back among the familiar sights
and sounds of soldier life. This li