ey knew nothing about. They had a horror of "the dog
catchers." The collecting agents of the S. P. C. A. are bugbears in most
communities. When the children saw the green van, with its screened door
in the back, and heard the yapping of the excited dogs within, Dot and
Tess stuffed their fingers in their ears and ran.

The children did not understand that stray dogs were likely to be bitten
as those other dogs had been by one afflicted with the rabies; and that
it was much more humane to catch the unmuzzled animals, that nobody
cared for, and dispose of them painlessly, than to have them become
diseased and a menace to the neighborhood.

To make the children understand that it was dangerous to play with
strange dogs was a difficult matter. The little Corner House girls were
prone to be friendly with passing animals.

All hungry and sore-eyed kittens appealed to Tess and Dot; the wag of a
dog's tail was sufficient to interest them in its owner; each horse at
the curb held a particular interest, too. They were trusting of nature,
these little girls, and they trusted everybody and everything.

In coming home from school one afternoon Neale was in a hurry to do an
errand, and he left the little folk at the corner, hurrying around to
Con Murphy's on the back street, where he lived. Ruth was away from home
and Agnes had not yet arrived at the Corner House.

The Willow Street block, however, seemed perfectly safe. Tess and Dot
strolled along the block, their feet rustling the carpet of leaves that
had now fallen from the trees. Sammy Pinkney was playing solitaire
leapfrog over all posts and hydrants.

Just as they reached the corner of the Corner House yard Tom Jonah heard
and saw them. He rose up, barking the glad tidings that his little
friends were returning from school, and as he felt pretty well this day,
he leaped the fence into the street and came cavorting toward them,
laughing just as broadly as a dog could laugh.

Even as Tess and Dot greeted him, Sammy Pinkney emitted a shriek of
dismay. A big auto-van had turned the corner and rolled smoothly along
the block. One man on the front seat who was driving the truck said to
his mate:

"There's another of 'em, Bill. Net him."

The fellow he spoke to leaped out as the green van came to a halt. He
carried a net like a fish seine over his arm. Before the little girls
who were fondling Tom Jonah realized that danger threatened--before the
frightened Sammy could do m