fore the possible kick, she could read all too clearly how harassed he
was with that fear.

They were approaching the bridge. The guard on the bridge would foil that
quest. He would not permit a forlorn little yellow dog to seek happiness
by following members of an officer's family across the Government bridge.
Probably in the name of law and order he would kick him, as the other man
had done; the dog's bleared little eyes, eyes through which the love
longing must look, would cast one last look after the unattainable, and
then, another hope gone, another promise unrealized, he would return
miserably back to his loveless world, but always--

"Watts," said Katie sharply, "stop a moment, please. I want to get
something."

Ann was sitting very straight, looking with great absorption up the river
when Katie got back in the carriage with her dog. Her face was pale, and,
it seemed to Katie, hard. She moved as far away from the dog as she
could--her mouth set.

He sat just where Katie put him on the floor, trembling, and looking up
at her with those asking eyes.

When they were almost home Ann spoke. "You can't take in all the homeless
dogs of the world, Katie."

"I don't know that that's any reason for not taking in this one," replied
Katie shortly.

"I hate to have you make yourself feel badly," Ann said tremulously.

"Why shouldn't I let myself feel badly?" demanded Katie roughly. "In a
world of homeless dogs, why shouldn't I feel badly?"

They made a great deal of fun of Katie's dog. They named him "Pet."
Captain Prescott wanted to know if she meant to exhibit him at a bench
show and mention various points he was sure would excite attention.

"What I hate, Katie," said Wayne, "is the way he cringes. None of that
cringing about Queen."

"And why not?" she demanded hotly. "Because Queen was never kicked.
Because Queen was never chased down alleys by boys with rocks and tin
cans. Because Queen never asked for a pat and got a cuff. Nor did Queen's
mother. Queen hasn't a drop of kicked blood in her. This sorry little dog
comes from a long line of the kicked and the cuffed. And then you blame
_him_ for cringing. I'm ashamed of you, Wayne!"

He was about to make laughing retort, but Katie's cheeks were so red, her
eyes so bright, that he refrained and turned to Ann with: "Katie was
always great for taking in all kinds of superfluous things."

"Yes," said Ann, "I know."

"And she always takes her outcasts so very s