"We'll catch up with the truck
before it's gone a mile. And we can take Laddie aboard here,
then. But I wonder he consented to go ahead, without us. That
isn't like Lad. Holiday-spirits, I suppose. This trip has made a
puppy of him. A stately old gentleman like Laddie would never
think of rounding up bears and skunks, if he was at home." As he
talked, the car got under way; moving at rackety and racking
"first speed" over hummock and bump; as it joggled into the faint
wheeltrack. By reason of this noise and of the Master's stupid
homily, none of the trio heard an amazed little bark, from the
knoll-top, a hundred yards behind them.
Nor did the car catch up with the truck. At the end of the first
half mile, the horrible roadbed began to take toll of the elderly
tires. There were two punctures, in rapid succession. Then came a
blowout. And, at the bottom of the mountain a third puncture
varied the monotony of the ride. Thus, the truck reached the
Place well ahead of the faster vehicle.
The Mistress's first question was for Lad. Terror seized upon the
guide's boy, as he remembered where he had left the dog.
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