legs to the other end
of the hall, where there was a dark little stairway leading up into a
garret where old boxes and such things were kept, as I had heard say,
and where people seldom went. I managed to climb up there, then I
searched my way through the dark among the piles of things, and hid in
the secretest place I could find. It was foolish to be afraid there,
yet still I was; so afraid that I held in and hardly even whimpered,
though it would have been such a comfort to whimper, because that
eases the pain, you know. But I could lick my leg, and that did me
some good.

For half an hour there was a commotion down-stairs, and shoutings,
and rushing footsteps, and then there was quiet again. Quiet for some
minutes, and that was grateful to my spirit, for then my fears began
to go down; and fears are worse than pains,--oh, much worse. Then
came a sound that froze me! They were calling me--calling me by
name--hunting for me!

It was muffled by distance, but that could not take the terror out of
it, and it was the most dreadful sound to me that I had ever heard. It
went all about, everywhere, down there: along the halls, through all
the rooms, in both stories, and in the basement and the cellar; then
outside, and further and further away--then back, and all about the
house again, and I thought it would never, never stop. But at last it
did, hours and hours after the vague twilight of the garret had long
ago been blotted out by black darkness.

Then in that blessed stillness my terror fell little by little away,
and I was at peace and slept. It was a good rest I had, but I woke
before the twilight had come again. I was feeling fairly comfortable,
and I could think out a plan now. I made a very good one; which was,
to creep down, all the way down the back stairs, and hide behind the
cellar door, and slip out and escape when the iceman came at dawn,
while he was inside filling the refrigerator; then I would hide all
day, and start on my journey when night came; my journey to--well,
anywhere where they would not know me and betray me to the master. I
was feeling almost cheerful now; then suddenly I thought, Why, what
would life be without my puppy!

That was despair. There was no plan for me; I saw that; I must stay
where I was; stay, and wait, and take what might come--it was not my
affair; that was what life is--my mother had said it. Then--well, then
the calling began again! All my sorrows came back. I said to mysel