. Laddie whined
softly and nosed the gate farther open.

A man sat on the porch, but he was asleep--anyhow, his eyes were
closed. Perhaps he had a dog of his own. At any rate, he could not
object to a tired yellow mongrel quenching his thirst at his pool. The
Piper had gone on without observing that his wayworn companion had
stopped.

Except for a mob of boys who had thrown stones at him and broken his
leg, humans had been kind to Laddie. It had been a human, Piper Tom,
in fact, who had rescued him from the boys and made his leg good again.
Laddie cherished no resentment against the mob, for he had that eternal
forgiveness of blows and neglect which lives in the heart of the
commonest cur.

Opening his eyes, Anthony Dexter noted that a small, rough-coated
yellow dog was drinking eagerly at the pool of water past which Evelina
continually moved. She went by twice while the dog was drinking, but
he took no notice of her. Neither robins nor dogs seemed to fear
Evelina--it was only men, or, to be exact, one man, who had hitherto
feared nothing save self-analysis.

The turf was cool and soft to a little dog's tired feet. Laddie walked
leisurely toward the shrubbery, where there was deep and quiet shade.
Under the lilac bush, he lay down to rest, but was presently on his
feet again, curiously exploring the place.

He sniffed carefully at the ground behind the lilac bushes, and the
wiry hair on his back bristled. There was something uncanny about it,
and a guarding instinct warned him away. But what was this that lay on
the ground, so soaked with rains that, in the shade, it had not yet
dried? Laddie dragged it out into the sunlight to see.

It was small and square and soft on the outside, yet hard within.
Except for the soft, damp outer covering, it might have been the block
of pine with which Piper Tom and he would play by the hour. The Piper
would throw the block of wood far from him, sometimes even into the
water, and Laddie would race after it, barking gaily. When he brought
it back, he was rewarded with a pat on the head, or, sometimes, a bone.
Always, there would be friendly talk. Perhaps the man on the porch had
thrown this, and was waiting for him to bring it back.

Laddie took the mysterious thing carefully in his strong jaws, and
trotted exultantly up to the porch, wagging his stub of a tail.
Strangely enough, just at the steps, the thing opened, and something
small and cold and snake-like sli