over and over but
clinging tightly until Jan turned and pounced upon him. They tumbled
about, sometimes Jan was on top, sometimes Rollo, and they looked like a
huge, yellow spider with eight sturdy, furry legs kicking wildly. At
last, panting, they sprawled facing each other with pink tongues hanging
from their open mouths and eyes twinkling merrily.

The sound of Brother Antoine's voice made them look up quickly, and they
saw two visitors were with him. The dogs were accustomed to visitors,
for in the summer many people came to see the Hospice and the dogs, but
in the winter the strangers sought refuge from storms.

"Come on, Rollo," called Jan, as the monk and the men with him came down
the steps. "There's Brother Antoine. I'll beat you to him! Show him how
fast we can run!"

Before Jan had finished, the two puppies were tearing madly toward the
monk and the other men. One of these strangers wore a long fur overcoat,
the other was a much younger man with kindly grey eyes. Jan won the
race, but was going so fast that he could not stop until he bumped
against this grey-eyed man, who smiled and leaned down to pat him. Jan
squirmed around and touched the hand with his nose, then edged nearer
Brother Antoine, who called the dogs about him.

It was a splendid sight to see them cross the enclosure, their great
heads held proudly, their eyes beaming with intelligence and kindness,
the strong muscles moving beneath the tawny skins, as though each one of
them, old and young, understood that the honor of his forefathers must
be guarded from any act that would injure it.

Bruno limped slowly, Jan's mother walked sedately beside him, back of
them were Jupitiere, Junon, Mars, Vulcan, Pluton, Leon, and among the
older dogs came those the same age as Jan and Rollo, followed by the
mothers with still smaller puppies. They reached a place in the yard
where all of them stopped, and though the man in the fur coat, who
stood a distance back of Brother Antoine and the younger man, called to
them, the dogs only wagged their tails and did not go any closer.

"You will have to come further," said the monk. "The dogs know that they
must not cross to you, for the first thing a puppy learns is to respect
the boundary line."

The fur-coated man moved to where Brother Antoine and the other man
stood, then the dogs grouped about while the monk talked to the
visitors.

"They seem to understand every word you say," the old man spoke. "Their