Lad's
tail began to wag again. Apparently, this eccentric person was
coming out, after all, to keep him company. Now, the man was
kneeling on the window-seat. Now, in gingerly fashion, he reached
forward and set the small bag down on the veranda; before
negotiating the climb across the broad seat,--a climb that might
well call for the use of both his hands.
Lad was entranced. Here was a game he understood. Thus, more than
once, had the Mistress tossed out to him his flannel doll, as he
had stood in pathetic invitation on the porch, looking in at her
as she read or talked. She had laughed at his wild tossings and
other maltreatments of the limp doll. He had felt he was scoring
a real hit. And this hit he decided to repeat.
Snatching up the swollen little satchel, almost before it left
the intruder's hand, Lad shook it, joyously, reveling in the
faint clink and jingle of the contents. He backed playfully away;
the bag-handle swinging in his jaws. Crouching low, he wagged his
tail in ardent invitation to the stranger to chase him and get
back the satchel.
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