urned it over with his foot, seized
it, and ran on again, dropped it, and barked. Then, as the boy
advanced, it seized the bone and ran on farther, to go through the same
performance.

"Very well, I'll come," cried Tom. "Bound to say he has found an adder
somewhere, and wants me to kill it, though I should hardly think there
are any about now," and he set off at a trot after the dog, whose whole
manner changed at this, for it went bounding off along the road,
stopping every now and then to drop the bone and bark excitedly; twice
over it left the meat and ran on, but at a word it came back, picked it
up, and went on as before, with tail and ears erect, looking as full of
business as could be.

"Isn't this very stupid?" muttered Tom; "me running after this
miserable-looking brute. He's going to change masters, and wants me to
go hunting with him--that's what it is. Pete has knocked him about once
too often. Wonder what uncle would say if I took such an object back.
And old David!"

He laughed heartily as he pictured the gardener's disgust, but somehow
he could not help feeling satisfied by the dog's show of affection.

At this point he stopped, for they had gone some distance along beside
the fir-wood, and to try how the animal would behave, he called it.

The bone was dropped, and the animal rushed back to him barking
excitedly, allowing itself to be patted, and then jumping up and butting
its head against him in a way more eager than pleasant.

"Well, isn't that enough?" cried Tom, giving the dog a few friendly
pats, which made it dart on again barking.

"Here! hi! The bone!" and the dog dashed back, picked it up, and bolted
steadily on again, till at about a mile from Heatherleigh it stopped by
an opening into the wood, bounded up the sandy bank, and stood there
barking as it looked back.

"Look here," cried Tom, as he came up, and talking to the dog as if it
understood him. "No treachery, old chap; Pete hasn't sent you, has he,
to lure me into the wood for another fight? Because if that's it I'm
going back. I don't want to knock myself about again--or be knocked,"
he added merrily.

There was a volley of barks here, and the dog was going to plunge into
the depths of the fir-wood without the dropped bone, but a word checked
it, and it picked up its mouthful and went on, while Tom hesitated at
the edge.

"I'm not going any farther," he muttered. "What's the good?" but the
dog was back, looking wil