e care of you,"
began Ben, thoughtfully looking about the familiar place where the men
were now feeding the animals, setting their refreshment tables, or
lounging on the hay to get such rest as they could before the evening
entertainment. Suddenly he started, gave a long look, then turned to
Bab, and thrusting Sancho's strap into her hand, said, hastily:

"I see a fellow I used to know. May be he can tell me something about
father. Don't you stir till I come back."

Then he was off like a shot, and Bab saw him run after a man with a
bucket who bad been watering the zebra. Sancho tried to follow, but was
checked with an impatient,--

"No, you can't go! What a plague you are, tagging around when people
don't want you."

Sancho might have answered, "So are you," but, being a gentlemanly dog,
he sat down with a resigned expression to watch the little colts, who
were now awake and seemed ready for a game of bo-peep behind their
mammas. Bab enjoyed their funny little frisks so much that she tied the
wearisome strap to a post, and crept under the rope to pet the tiny
mouse-colored one who came and talked to her with baby whinnies and
confiding glances of its soft, dark eyes.

"Oh, luckless Bab! why did you turn your back? Oh, too accomplished
Sancho! why did you neatly untie that knot and trot away to confer with
the disreputable bull-dog who stood in the entrance beckoning with
friendly wavings of an abbreviated tail? Oh, much afflicted Ben! why did
you delay till it was too late to save your pet from the rough man who
set his foot upon the trailing strap, and led poor Sanch quickly out of
sight among the crowd?

"It was Bascum, but he didn't know any thing. Why, where's Sanch?" said
Ben, returning. A breathless voice made Bab turn to see Ben looking
about him with as much alarm in his hot face as if the dog had been a
two years' child.

"I tied him--he's here somewhere--with the ponies," stammered Bab,
in sudden dismay, for no sign of a dog appeared as her eyes roved
wildly to and fro.

Ben whistled, called and searched in vain, till one of the lounging men
said, lazily,

"If you are looking after the big poodle you'd better go outside; I saw
him trotting off with another dog."

Away rushed Ben, with Bab following, regardless of the rain, for both
felt that a great misfortune had befallen them. But, long before this,
Sancho had vanished, and no one minded his indignant howls as he was
driven off in a covered c