"If Lad's alive, he's fastened
there. You say you saw him struggling to get loose, this morning.
He can't come, when he hears that whistle. There's no sense
in--How in blue blazes he ever got fastened there,--if he really
was,--is more than I can--"
"Hush!" begged the Mistress, breaking in on his grumbled
monologue. "Listen!"
Out of the darkness, beyond the knoll-top, came the sound of a
bark,--the clear trumpeting welcome-bark which Lad reserved for
the Mistress and the Master, alone; on their return from any
absence.
Through the night it echoed, gaily, defiantly; again and again;
ringing out above the obscene hiss and crackle and roar of the
forest-fire. And at every repetition, it was nearer and nearer
the dumfounded listeners at the knoll foot.
"It's--it's Laddie!" cried the Mistress, in wondering rapture.
"Oh, it's LADDIE!"
The Master, hearing the glad racket, did a thoroughly asinine
thing. Drawing in his breath and holding his coat in front of
him, he prepared to make a dash through the wide smear of embers,
to the hilltop; where, presumably, Lad was still tied.
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