gain,
if Wully stole an extra sheep to make up the number, then what--in a
foreign land too? He decided to abandon Wully, and push on alone with
the sheep. And how he fared no one knows or cares.

Meanwhile, Wully careered through miles of streets hunting in vain for
his lost sheep. All day he searched, and at night, famished and worn
out, he sneaked shamefacedly back to the ferry, only to find that
master and sheep had gone. His sorrow was pitiful to see. He ran about
whimpering, then took the ferryboat across to the other side, and
searched everywhere for Robin. He returned to South Shields and searched
there, and spent the rest of the night seeking for his wretched idol.
The next day he continued his search, he crossed and recrossed the
river many times. He watched and smelt everyone that came over, and with
significant shrewdness he sought unceasingly in the neighboring taverns
for his master. The next day he set to work systematically to smell
everyone that might cross the ferry.

The ferry makes fifty trips a day, with an average of one hundred
persons a trip, yet never once did Wully fail to be on the gang-plank
and smell every pair of legs that crossed--5,000 pairs, 10,000 legs that
day did Wully examine after his own fashion. And the next day, and
the next, and all the week he kept his post, and seemed indifferent to
feeding himself. Soon starvation and worry began to tell on him. He
grew thin and ill-tempered. No one could touch him, and any attempt
to interfere with his daily occupation of leg-smelling roused him to
desperation.

Day after day, week after week Wully watched and waited for his master,
who never came. The ferry men learned to respect Wully's fidelity. At
first he scorned their proffered food and shelter, and lived no one knew
how, but starved to it at last, he accepted the gifts and learned to
tolerate the givers. Although embittered against the world, his heart
was true to his worthless master.

Fourteen months afterward I made his acquaintance. He was still on rigid
duty at his post. He had regained his good looks. His bright, keen face
set off by his white ruff and pricked ears made a dog to catch the eye
anywhere. But he gave me no second glance, once he found my legs were
not those he sought, and in spite of my friendly overtures during the
ten months following that he continued his watch. I got no farther into
his confidence than any other stranger.

For two whole years did this dev