he meant to run all the way to the
mountain.

At the edge of the woods Rudy waited, and whistled to Cham. "Hold on!"
he said; "maybe she's hiding." And for a while he looked about the
laurel bushes in the places where they were accustomed to play, and
sang, lustily,

"A-roving, a-roving,
I'll go no more a-roving
With thee, fair maid."

But after a while he ceased his singing, and answered one of Champion's
whines by ramming his hands in his pockets, and saying, "Look a-here,
Cham! If anything has happened to Het, I'll--" The thought brought such
a film over his honest brown eyes that he had to rub his cuff over them
a good many times before he could see well enough to go on with his
search. Fortunately, dogs don't cry tears, and Champion's eyes seemed to
grow brighter as Rudy's grew dim. He seemed to say to himself: "If Rudy
is going to give up, and cry about it, I've got to take matters into my
own hands. Hetty's got to be found, and I can't waste my time waiting
for a boy to get the better of his feelings. He oughtn't to _have_ any
feelings until after our business is settled!" And Champion gave Rudy's
boot a good-by lick, and raced away alone.

Rudy dried his eyes, and had no more idea than the dog had of giving up
the search. Dogs are just as apt to misunderstand boys as boys are to
misunderstand dogs.

Rudy ran over woods and fields, up and down the neighboring hills,
calling Hetty and Champion, whistling and shouting, until he was hoarse.
He could not find Hetty, and Champion did not return.

After a while he got angry at the dog, and said, between his teeth,
"I'll give it to Cham for running away from me, just when I want him to
help me find Het!" But his anger melted into grief when the terrible
thought came that perhaps some dreadful thing had happened to his
sister. Once he lay down flat upon his face, and cried aloud at the
sudden memory of how he had teased her that very morning by running away
with one of her doll's shoes, which he had only just that moment
switched out of his pocket. In a few moments, however, he jumped up
again, looked at the little shoe tenderly, and tied it carefully in a
corner of his handkerchief, saying, "There! I'll give it back the minute
I find her, and I'll fix her something for the baby-house, to make up."

He started off once more, this time without stopping to think where
Hetty would be likely to go, only rushing about in a sort of desperate
way, calling her