" And with incredible celerity the
boy opened the door at the opposite end of the room and disappeared.
"Madam," said Mr. Carter, in considerable embarrassment, "I must say
one word. I am Mr. Carter, Mr. Allan Carter. You may have heard my
name?"
She shook her head. "No, sir."
"I live not far from here on the avenue. Three weeks ago I lost a
little dog that I valued very much I have had all the city searched
since then, in vain. To-day I met the boy who has just left us. He
informed me that three weeks ago he found a dog, which is at present in
the possession of your son. I wonder--is it not just possible that this
dog may be mine?"
Mrs. Bailey smiled. "I guess not, Mr. Carter. The dog Jimmy found
hadn't come off the avenue--not from the look of him. You know there's
hundreds and hundreds of dogs without homes, sir. But I will say for
this one, he has a kind of a way with him."
"Hark!" said Mr. Carter.
There was a rustling and a snuffing at the door at the far end of the
room, a quick scratching of feet. Then:
"Woof! woof! woof!" sharp and clear came happy impatient little barks.
The philanthropist's eyes brightened. "Yes," he said, "that is the dog."
"I doubt if it can be, sir," said Mrs. Bailey, deprecatingly.
"Open the door, please," commanded the philanthropist, "and let us
see.
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