e floor; Peggy had returned to her decorating; Polly had
draped her flag upon the wall and was standing her beloved bugle and a
long row of photographs upon book-shelves beneath it, several girls
following her with little squeals of rapture, when a pandemonium of
shrieks and screams arose down the corridor and the next second a huge
creature bounded into the room, tipping Jess and his burden heels over
head, and flinging itself upon Peggy. Down came ladder, Peggy, and the
white mass in a heap, the girls scattering in a shrieking panic to
whatever shelter seemed to offer, confident that nothing less than a
wolf had invaded the fold.

But Tzaritza was no wolf even if her beautiful snowy coat was
mud-bedraggled and stuck full of burrs, nor was Peggy being "devoured
alive," as Lily Pearl, who had actually _run_ for once in her life, was
hysterically sobbing into Mrs. Vincent's arms.

No, Peggy, rather promiscuous as to ladder, hammer, hat-bands and
general paraphernalia, was lying flat upon her back, her arms around
Tzaritza, half-sobbing, half-laughing her joy into the beautiful
creature's silky neck, while Tzaritza whimpered and whined for joy and
licked and dabbed her mistress with a moist tongue.

"It is a wolf! A wolf!" shrieked Lily Pearl, who had returned to the
scene, "and he is killing her."

"It is a horrid, dirty dog! Why doesn't that man drive him out?"
demanded Miss Sturgis, who had followed Tzaritza hot foot, having been
in the main hall when the great hound went tearing through and up the
stairs, nose and ears having given her the clue to her mistress'
whereabouts.

"No, it's only a wolf_hound_!" laughed Polly, dropping her pictures to
fly across the room and fall upon Tzaritza.

Then explanations followed. Tzaritza had been left in Shelby's care, but
finding it impossible to restrain her when Jess was about to leave with
the horses, he had tied her in the barn. The rope was bitten through as
clean as a thread and Tzaritza's coat told of the long journey on the
horses' trail.

After her wild demonstrations of joy had calmed down, Tzaritza stood
panting in the middle of the wreck which her cyclonic entrance had
brought about, her great eyes pleading eloquently for restored favor.

Polly still clasped her arms about the big shaggy neck, while Miss
Sturgis alternately protested and commanded Jess to "remove that dirty
creature at once." Happily, Mrs. Vincent entered the room at this
juncture and it mus