e was in the secret of
the dog's capture. Anyway, I decided to steer clear of the wireless
and trust to luck. At last my chance came. Some equipment was needed
and it was decided I was to be put ashore and get it. By this time
Lola, who for the last few days had refused to eat, had begun to show
decidedly alarming symptoms. I diagnosed the case as plain
homesickness and privately resolved to get her off the yacht if it was
a possible thing; but Mr. Daly thought she had distemper or something
and was mightily cut up. He didn't want the animal to die on his hands
after all he had gone through to get her. Altogether he began to be
pretty uneasy and you may be sure I did my part to make him so. Every
chance I got I would remark how sick his dog seemed. Of course I
wasn't supposed to know it wasn't one he had had for years. I kept
harping on the puppie's health until I had him fussed to death. At
last he said: 'I don't know but what you are right about Trixie,
O'Connel. If they are going to put you ashore at Boston to buy
supplies, why wouldn't it be a good plan for you to take the dog to
the animal hospital there? You could leave her and later we could go
back and get her. She does seem ailing, and I haven't the ghost of an
idea what to do with a sick dog. Besides, she is a nuisance on the
yacht if she must be catered to all the time.' Well, as you can
imagine, I jumped at the chance although I took every pains not to let
him suspect I did. I told him that of course if he wanted me to take
the dog I should be glad to do it. I liked animals and also I wished
to accommodate him. There was no denying, however, that to carry Lola
with me would delay me in town. Still, if he desired it I would do my
best to see that she was taken _where she would get well_."

The big fellow paused and laughed heartily.

"I've kept that promise, too," grinned he. "I have sent a note back to
the _Siren_ recalling the phrase to Mr. Daly, and telling him that
having decided Lola would recover more completely if placed under the
protection of her rightful owners I was taking her back there."

"I'd like to see his face when he gets that letter!" said Mr.
Crowninshield, rubbing his hands.

"So should I," roared O'Connel, his broad shoulders shaking.

"But won't he----" Mrs. Crowninshield looked anxious.

"Won't he what, my dear?" inquired her husband.

"Aren't you afraid he will be angry and----" she held the wee dog
closer in her arms.

"He