The Mistress was keener of eye and of perception. She understood.
She saw the Lad's inhalingly seeking muzzle was steady above a
faint mark in the road-dust;--the mark of a buckskin shoe's
print. Long and carefully the dog sniffed. Then, with heavy
deliberation he moved on to the next footprint and the next. The
runabout's driver had taken less than a half dozen steps in all;
during his short descent to the ground. But Lad did not stop
until he had found and identified each and every step.
"He knows!" marveled the Mistress. "He saw the brute jump down
from his car. And he has found his footsteps. He'll remember
them, too."
"Little good it will do the poor chap!" commented the Master. "He
can't track him, that way. Get aboard, won't you?" he went on.
"I'll make Lad go back into the tonneau again, too. Drive down to
the house; and take Lad indoors with you. Better telephone to the
vet to come over and have another look at his shoulder. He's
wrenched it badly, in all that run. Anyway, please keep him
indoors till--"
He finished his sentence by a glance at Lady.
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