r
you!" She was seized with sudden fright. It seemed as if she alone was
awake in all that black, still night. She called Lois two or three times
but got no reply. She went to the door and listened. Her friend's
regular breathing came to her faintly from the other room.

"What can I do?" she whispered. "Oh, Sandy boy, don't," she pleaded as
the dog groaned again.

A minute later, she was hurrying into her clothes. When she was dressed
she tip-toed down the hall and knocked at the farthest door. "Bob," she
called softly.

"Yes," came the instant reply. "What is it?" Fortunately the wind had
rattled his shade, so that the noise had awakened him a few minutes
before.

"Get up," Polly called. "Sandy's awfully sick and I'm frightened."

Bob hurried into his things with full speed and joined her. Together
they carried the dog into the morning room at the head of the stairs,
and put him on the lounge. Bob lit the lamp.

"He can't breathe," Polly said desperately. "Oh, Bob, what can we do?"

Bob went for water and moistened the dog's tongue while Polly held his
head in her arms. His breathing grew more labored.

"Could Tim do anything?" Bob suggested, forlornly. He knew that he
couldn't, but it was terrible to just watch the dog suffer.

Polly shook her head. She didn't dare trust herself to speak. After a
little while the breathing grew quieter. Sandy turned his head and
licked Polly's hand. Then quite suddenly it stopped--his body trembled
and he lay still in her arms.

Bob put his hand on her shoulder.

"Better leave him, Poll," he said huskily.

Polly looked up at him. It was a second before she understood.

"Bob, he's not-- Oh, Sandy! You've left me," she sobbed, and buried her
head in his silky coat.

All Christmas day Polly tried to keep up her spirits and not spoil the
others' pleasure, but her heart had a dull, lonely ache that wouldn't go
away. Any one who has loved and lost a faithful dog understands. And
Polly had loved Sandy from his first puppy days.

All the family did their best to cheer her up, but the day was a woeful
failure. Uncle Roddy and Bob were the only ones who understood her
grief, and their own was so great that they could find no words of
comfort.

After dinner she disappeared. She knew that all the afternoon callers
would be dropping in to exchange greetings, and she could not bear the
thought of talking to them.

Bob found her about four o'clock, curled up on her favorite win