t wide and two in height, a hole with sides of moist
earth, formed like an irregularly-shaped funnel, and affording at its
farther end little more than room enough for a creature of Schwartz's
size to pass. At the narrow end the earth was freshly disturbed.

I shouted down this reversed trumpet of a hole. I listened after every
call I explored the place so far as I could with a six-foot wand cut
from a near tree. I heard no movement, no whine of distress, and I
touched nothing with the wand except the roof of the cavern into which
poor Schwartz had fallen. At length I gave him up for dead, remembering
the adventure of the day before, the terrible space of time which had
elapsed before the echo of the fallen boulder came booming from the
abyss, and thinking it as likely as not that Schwartz had fallen to an
equal depth. When I got back to the hotel I told the tale as well as I
could, and one of the servants took the news to Schwartz's master.

When once this lamentable accident had happened, it became surprising to
learn how frequently its like had happened before. There was scarcely
a sportsman in the village who had not his story of some such
disappearance of a dog whilst out shooting. The poor beast would become
excited in pursuit of game, would dash headlong into a set of bushes and
emerge no more. Then a moment's examination would reveal the fatal cave.
I am certain that I heard a good half-score of such histories. The cave,
by the way, was not always fatal, for I heard of cases in which the dog
had been known to find his way out of the underground labyrinth, and
return home dreadfully thin and hungry, but otherwise undamaged. These
cases gave me some faint hope for Schwartz, but as day after day went by
the hope faded, and I made up my mind that I had seen the last of him.
I was sorry to think so, for he had been very much a friend and a
companion.

IV

It was curious to notice how that unquestioning allegiance and
admiration which the missing Schwartz had been used to bestow on Lil
was now bestowed by her on the new-comer who answered to the name of
Scraper, and how in answer to all her advances and endearments Scraper
remained scornful and unreceptive. One knows a hundred poems and
legends in which this form of vengeance is taken upon the cruel fair; in
which the proud lady who has scorned the humble and faithful heart lives
to be scorned in turn. Scraper, probably unconscious of his mission as
avenger,