They're great!"
"You boys are doing this?"
"Well, it's our club at the settlement, and of course Miss Gray thought
of it, and she's givin' Bill the train. Come along, mister."
But Mr. Carter declined.
"All right," said the boy. "I guess, what with Pete and all, Bill will
have Christmas enough."
"Who is Pete?"
"Bill's dog. He's had him three weeks now--best little pup you ever
saw!"
A dog which Bill had had three weeks--and in a neighbourhood not a
quarter of a mile from the avenue. It was three weeks since Skiddles
had disappeared. That this dog was Skiddles was of course most
improbable, and yet the philanthropist was ready to grasp at any clue
which might lead to the lost terrier.
"How did Bill get this dog?" he demanded.
"I found him myself. Some kids had tin-canned him, and he came into our
entry. He licked my hand, and then sat up on his hind legs. Somebody'd
taught him that, you know. I thought right away, 'Here's a dog for
Bill!' And I took him over there and fed him, and they kept him in
Bill's room two or three days, so he shouldn't get scared again and run
off; and now he wouldn't leave Bill for anybody. Of course, he ain't
much of a dog, Pete ain't," he added "he's just a pup, but he's mighty
friendly!"
"Boy," said Mr. Carter, "I guess I'll just go round and"--he was about
to add," have a look at that dog," but fearful of raising suspicion, he
ended--"and see Bill.
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