fell over into Don Mike's arms. The
others followed, overwhelming him. They licked his hands; they soiled
him with their reaching paws, the while their cries of welcome
testified to their delight. Presently, one grew jealous of the other
in the mad scramble for his caressing hand, and Nip bit Mollie, who
retaliated by biting Nailer, who promptly bit Nip, thus completing the
vicious circle. In an instant, they were battling each other.

"Stop it!" Don Mike commanded. "Break!"

They "broke" at his command, and, forgetting their animosities, began
running in circles, in a hopeless effort to express their happiness.
Suddenly, as if by common impulse, they appeared to remember a
neglected duty, and fled noisily whence they had come.

"Ah, only my dogs to welcome me!" Kay heard Don Mike murmur. And then
the stubborn tears came and blinded him, so he did not see her white
figure step out into the avenue and come swiftly toward him. The first
he knew of her presence was when her hand touched his glistening black
head bent on his arms over the top rail of the gate.

"No, no, Don Mike," he heard a sweet voice protesting; "somebody else
cares, too. We wouldn't be human if we didn't. Please--please try not
to feel so badly about it."

He raised his haggard face.

"Ah, yes--you!" he cried. "You--you've been waiting here--for me?"

"Yes. I wanted to tell you--to explain before you got to the house.
We didn't know, you see--and the notice was so terribly short; but
we'll go in the morning. I've saved dinner for you, Don Mike--and your
old room is ready for you. Oh, you don't know how sorry I am for you,
you poor man!"

He hid his face again.

"Don't--please!" he cried, in a choked voice. "I can't stand
sympathy--to-night--from you!"

She laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Come, come; you must buck up, old soldier," she assured him. "You'll
have to meet Pablo and Carolina very soon."

"I'm so alone and desperate," he muttered, through clenched teeth.
"You can't--realize what this means--to me. My father was an old
man--he had--accomplished his years--and I weep for him, because I
loved--him. But oh, my home--this--dear land--"

He choked, and, in that moment, she forgot that this man was a stranger
to her. She only knew that he had been stricken, that he was helpless,
that he lacked the greatest boon of the desolate--a breast upon which
he might weep. Gently she lifted the black head and drew it down on