None of it makes sense to me. As I just said. But,
whatever happened, it's turned Laddie into a real watchdog. Did
you notice how he went for the police when they started down the
drive, last night? We've got a watchdog at last."
"We've got more than a watchdog," amended the Mistress. "An
ordinary watchdog would just scare away thieves or bite them. Lad
captured the thief and then brought the stolen jewelry back to
us. No other dog could have done that."
Lad, enraptured by the note of praise in the Mistress's soft
voice, looked adoringly up into the face that smiled so proudly
down at him. Then, catching the sound of a step on the drive, he
dashed out to bark in murderous fashion at a wholly harmless
delivery boy whom he had seen every day for weeks.
A watchdog can't afford to relax vigilance, for a single
instant,--especially at the responsible age of five months.
CHAPTER II. The Fetish
From the night of the robbery, Lad's high position at the Place
was assured.
Even in the months of ganglingly leggy awkwardness which
generally separate furry puppyhood from dignified collie
maturity, he gave sure promise of his quality.
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