our diggings since noon."

"Not a once. Why? Did you want me?"

"N--o. Oh, no."

"That's lucky. Apparently everybody else did," concluded Jerry grimly.

So went Walter's quest! Nobody had seen Lola. Nobody knew anything
about her. Question as he would, not the faintest trace of the missing
dog could be obtained; and when the Davenports rolled down the drive
the lad faced the awful moment when his secret must be divulged and
the alarm sounded that Lola, the Crowninshields' most valued
possession, was missing. Rapidly he turned the prospect of the coming
storm over in his mind.

Since the dog had been left in his charge the only manly thing to do,
he argued, was to go directly to Mr. Crowninshield and himself
acquaint him with the direful tidings. It would be cowardly to shunt
this wretched task off on somebody else. It was his duty and his
alone. Nevertheless, as he stood for a moment summoning his courage,
he would have given all he possessed to escape the interview that
awaited him.

He would be scolded, blamed, discharged--that he knew--and he must
bear bravely censure for something which he could not feel was his
fault. Yet notwithstanding the fact that his conscience exonerated
him it made the coming scene no less dreadful to anticipate.

If Bob were only at hand to offer him his advice and sympathy. Bob was
such a bully comforter. He never jumped on a man when he was down.
Besides, he had a level head and always knew exactly what to do in an
emergency. The instant this awful talk with Mr. Crowninshield was over
and he was actually "fired" he should call Bob on the telephone and
tell him the whole story. He must tell somebody, and Bob would
understand better than anyone else just how everything had happened.

In the meantime there was nothing to be gained by further delay.

Pulling himself together, His Highness (a very meek bit of royalty
now) dragged himself up the flower-bordered path toward Surfside. As
he went it seemed as if every pansy flanking the walk stared out at
him and whispered, "Aha, young man! You're in for it now!"

Alas, he did not need to be told that! He knew it only too well. He
cleared his throat, wondering how he should begin his confession.

"Mr. Crowninshield, I have some very sad news to impart to you--etc.";
or "Mr. Crowninshield, I regret to say a very terrible thing has
happened." Such an introduction was easily delivered. It was the next
sentence that appalled him. He could