up, and he sprang back, strongly tempted to snap and snap hard.
But always he reflected that master and mistress set a high valuation on
the little biped. And Frank would have been a gentleman if he hadn't
been a dog.

Self-control embitters a small spirit--it ennobles a large one. His
forbearance was not without its reward. He found himself, partly through
the virtue of necessity, growing indulgent. On that lonely plantation
what outlet did the child have for his playmania? The dog remembered
that in a former kennel life a puppy had incessantly chewed his ears.
Perhaps he had been that way himself--all young animals are. And what
was this creature, in spite of the fact that he ran upright instead of
on all fours, and wore small overalls made for him by his mother, what
was he but an active young animal?

Then instinct told him that on occasion Tommy would be loyal to the
death. This was evidenced by the fact that Tommy once savagely fought a
visiting boy who threw a stone into his box. Again, when enticed by the
wanderlust of spring, he was gone three days, it was Tommy who, like the
prodigal's father, spied him from afar and came running down the lane to
welcome him eagerly home.

"No wonder he ran off," said Earle. "You worry him to death!"

Tommy looked up, past the belt, along the soft shirt, to the face bent
down upon him like a disapproving providence. When he turned his eyes on
the dog, there was wonderment in them as if perhaps the truth were
dawning. Certainly for days he followed the dog around, plainly
apprehensive that he would run off again. And Frank, far more ready to
forget grievances than to remember them, began to watch him in his
incessant play, even to take part on occasion.

Spring passed, summer came, and Earle was a busy man on the farm. The
dog either followed him to the field, or sauntered about the yard with
lolling tongue. He grew stouter, his coat glossier, his muscles more
stanch. He grew sedate, too, like a gentleman of broad estates. More and
more his face bore that stamp of magnanimity that comes only to noble
breeds.

So things might have gone to the end, and Earle declared he dropped in
from Mars, and Marian contended that he was sent to find her boy, and
Tommy cared not where he came from so he was there. So things might have
gone if Frank had not followed the buggy to Breton Junction.

For two weeks previous he had been growing restless. Long, cold nights,
frosty mornings, g