madam, he is not mine to sell."

"Where dwells his master, then?"

"That I know not, for he had strayed and I found him and must restore him
if I can."

"'Tis a fool's errand," said the woman, who liked the dog herself, and,
moreover, saw that there was money in his nimble feet. "I will give you as
many coppers as you can carry in your cap if you will leave him here and go
your way and say nothing about it to any one."

Gabriel shook his head. "Alas, madam, he is not mine," was all the woman
could induce him to say, and she thought his sadness was at the thought of
the cap full of pence which she believed he dared not accept for fear of
getting into trouble. Little she knew that if only the golden dog were
Gabriel's very own, no money could buy from the boy the one heart on earth
that beat warmly for him, and the graceful, gay coat of flossy silk which
he loved to caress; so the farmer's wife and children were obliged to let
the couple go.

Gabriel had seen, the night before, a creek that wandered through the
meadow, and before entering the town he ran to it and, pulling off his
clothes, jumped in and took a good swim. Barking with delight, Topaz joined
in this new frolic, splashing and swimming about like the jolly little
water dog that he was.

When, at last, they came out and were dried, and Gabriel was dressed, they
were a fresh looking pair that started out for the town.

Now Gabriel was not so stupid as his brothers believed, and, as he said
over to himself the verse he had read that morning in the barn, and looked
at Topaz, so winsomely shining after his bath, he began to see how unwise
it would be to tell every one he met that he was searching for Topaz's
owner. There were people in the world, he knew, who would not scruple to
pretend that such a pretty creature was their own, even if they had never
seen him before; so Gabriel determined to be very careful and to know that
God would give him power and a sound mind, if he would not be afraid, as
the Book of Life had said.

Now the two entered the town; but from the moment their feet struck the
pavements, Topaz's manner changed. He kept so close to Gabriel that the boy
often came near to stepping on him.

"What ails you, little one?" asked Gabriel, perplexed by his companion's
strange actions. "Don't you know that you are going home?"

But Topaz did not bark a reply. His feathery tail hung down. He looked at
Gabriel only from the tops of his eyes as he