He had saved himself, thus, a longer walk; and had obeyed his
father's orders to take Lad away. He was certain the Master, or
one of the others, missing the dog, would see him standing
forlornly there, just outside the lean-to's corner; or that
another errand would bring some of the party to the shed to
release him. At best, the boy was sore of heart and of body, at
his own rough treatment. And he had scant interest anything else.
Twenty minutes later, the truck chugged bumpily off, upon its
trip down the hazardous mountain track. The guide's boy rode in
triumph on the seat beside the truckman;--a position of honor and
of excitement.
"Where's Lad?" asked the Mistress, a minute afterward, as she and
the Master and the guide made ready to get into the car and
follow.
"Aboard the truck," responded Barret, in entire good faith. "Him
and my boy got a-skylarkin' here. So I sent Bud over to the truck
with him."
"That's queer!" mused the Mistress. "Why, Laddie never
condescends to play,--or 'skylark,' as you call it,--with anyone
except my husband or myself! He--"
"Never mind!" put in the Master.
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