they had set him to do.

In a corner, between two empty baskets, they found a bundle of rags,
from which there came a faint moaning. There were a few drops of blood
upon the snow, and close by there lay, untouched, a piece of sugared
Vienna bread.

When the foreman understood the situation, he turned to Trofast to
praise him. But Trofast had already gone home; the position was quite
too uncomfortable for _him_.

They gathered her up, such as she was, wet and loathsome, and the
foreman decided that she should be placed upon the first coal-cart going
into town, and that they could stop at the hospital, so that the
professor himself might see whether she was worth repairing.

* * * * *

About ten o'clock the merchant's family began to assemble at the
breakfast-table. Thyra came first. She hurried up to Trofast, patted and
kissed him, and overwhelmed him with words of endearment.

But Trofast did not move his tail, and scarcely raised his eyes. He kept
on licking his fore-paws, which were a little black after the coal.

'Good gracious, my dear mother!' cried Miss Thyra; 'Trofast is
undoubtedly ill. Of course he has caught cold in the night; it was
really horrid of father.'

But when Waldemar came in, he declared, with a knowing air, that Trofast
was affronted.

All three now fell upon him with entreaties and excuses and kind words,
but Trofast coldly looked from one to the other. It was clear that
Waldemar was right.

Thyra then ran out for her father, and the merchant came in
serious--somewhat solemn. They had just told him by telephone from the
office how well Trofast had acquitted himself of his task, and, kneeling
down on the hearthrug before Trofast, he thanked him warmly for the
great service.

This mollified Trofast a good deal.

Still kneeling, with Trofast's paw in his hand, the merchant now told
his family what had occurred during the night. That the thief was a
hardened old woman, one of the very worst kind, who had even--just
imagine it!--driven a pretty considerable trade in the stolen coal. She
had been cunning enough to bribe the young watch-dog with a dainty piece
of bread; but, of course, that was no use with Trofast.

'And that brings me to think how often a certain person, whom I do not
wish to name, would rant about it being a shame that a beast should
refuse bread, for which many a human being would be thankful. Do we not
now see the good of that? Through