been staying with some people at Southampton,
L.I., where, the fall before, his friend Travers made his reputation
as a cross-country rider. He did this, it may be remembered, by
shutting his eyes and holding on by the horse's mane and letting the
horse go as it pleased. His recklessness and courage are still spoken
of with awe; and the place where he cleared the water jump that every
one else avoided is pointed out as Travers's Leap to visiting
horsemen, who look at it gloomily and shake their heads. Miss Arnett,
whose mother was giving the house-party, was an attractive young
woman, with an admiring retinue of youths who gave attention without
intention, and for none of whom Miss Arnett showed particular
preference. Her whole interest, indeed, was centred in a dog, a Scotch
collie called Duncan. She allowed this dog every liberty, and made a
decided nuisance of him for every one around her. He always went with
her when she walked, or trotted beside her horse when she rode. He
stretched himself before the fire in the dining-room, and startled
people at table by placing his cold nose against their hands or
putting his paws on their gowns. He was generally voted a most
annoying adjunct to the Arnett household; but no one dared hint so to
Miss Arnett, as she only loved those who loved the dog, or pretended
to do it. On the morning of the afternoon on which Van Bibber and his
bag arrived, the dog disappeared and could not be recovered. Van
Bibber found the household in a state of much excitement in
consequence, and his welcome was necessarily brief. The arriving guest
was not to be considered at all with the departed dog. The men told
Van Bibber, in confidence, that the general relief among the guests
was something ecstatic, but this was marred later by the gloom of Miss
Arnett and her inability to think of anything else but the finding of
the lost collie. Things became so feverish that for the sake of rest
and peace the house-party proposed to contribute to a joint purse for
the return of the dog, as even, nuisance as it was, it was not so bad
as having their visit spoiled by Miss Arnett's abandonment to grief
and crossness.

"I think," said the young woman, after luncheon, "that some of you men
might be civil enough to offer to look for him. I'm sure he can't have
gone far, or, if he has been stolen, the men who took him couldn't
have gone very far away either. Now which of you will volunteer? I'm
sure you'll do it to p