Further Adventures of Lad | Page 4

named him
"Lad."
From these meager facts they had somehow built up a picture of a huge
and grimly ferocious animal that should be a terror to all intruders and
that might in time be induced to make friends with the Place's
vouched-for occupants. In view of this, they had had a stout kennel
made and to it they had affixed with double staples a chain strong
enough to restrain a bull.
(It may as well be said here that never in all the sixteen years of his
beautiful life did Lad occupy that or any other kennel nor wear that or
any other chain.)
Even the crate which brought the new dog to the Place failed somehow
to destroy the illusion of size and fierceness. But, the moment the crate
door was opened the delusion was wrecked by Lad himself.
Out on to the porch he walked. The ramshackle crate behind him had a
ridiculous air of a chrysalis from which some bright thing had departed.
For a shaft of sunlight was shimmering athwart the veranda floor. And
into the middle of the warm bar of radiance Laddie stepped,--and stood.
His fluffy puppy-coat of wavy mahogany-and-white caught a million
sunbeams, reflecting them back in tawny-orange glints and in a dazzle
as of snow. His forepaws were absurdly small, even for a puppy's.
Above them the ridging of the stocky leg-bones gave as clear promise
of mighty size and strength as did the amazingly deep little chest and

square shoulders.
Here one day would stand a giant among dogs, powerful as a
timber-wolf, lithe as a cat, as dangerous to foes as an angry tiger; a dog
without fear or treachery; a dog of uncanny brain and great lovingly
loyal heart and, withal, a dancing sense of fun. A dog with a soul.
All this, any canine physiologist might have read from the compact
frame, the proud head-carriage, the smolder in the deep-set sorrowful
dark eyes. To the casual observer, he was but a beautiful and appealing
and wonderfully cuddleable bunch of puppyhood.
Lad's dark eyes swept the porch, the soft swelling green of the lawn,
the flash of fire-blue lake among the trees below. Then, he deigned to
look at the group of humans at one side of him. Gravely, impersonally,
he surveyed them; not at all cowed or strange in his new surroundings;
courteously inquisitive as to the twist of luck that had set him down
here and as to the people who, presumably, were to be his future
companions.
Perhaps the stout little heart quivered just a bit, if memory went back to
his home kennel and to the rowdy throng of brothers and sisters and
most of all, to the soft furry mother against whose side he had nestled
every night since he was born. But if so, Lad was too valiant to show
homesickness by so much as a whimper. And, assuredly, this House of
Peace was infinitely better than the miserable crate wherein he had
spent twenty horrible and jouncing and smelly and noisy hours.
From one to another of the group strayed the level sorrowful gaze.
After the swift inspection, Laddie's eyes rested again on the Mistress.
For an instant, he stood, looking at her, in that mildly polite curiosity
which held no hint of personal interest.
Then, all at once, his plumy tail began to wave. Into his sad eyes sprang
a flicker of warm friendliness. Unbidden--oblivious of everyone else he
trotted across to where the Mistress sat. He put one tiny white paw in
her lap; and stood thus, looking up lovingly into her face, tail awag,
eyes shining.
"There's no question whose dog he's going to be," laughed the Master.
"He's elected you,--by acclamation."
The Mistress caught up into her arms the halfgrown youngster, petting
his silken head, running her white fingers through his shining
mahogany coat; making crooning little friendly noises to him.

Lad forgot he was a dignified and stately pocket-edition of a collie.
Under this spell, he changed in a second to an excessively loving and
nestling and adoring puppy.
"Just the same," interposed the Master, "we've been stung. I wanted a
dog to guard the Place and to be a menace to burglars and all that sort
of thing. And they've sent us a Teddy-Bear. I think I'll ship him back
and get a grown one. What sort of use is--?"
"He is going to be all those things," eagerly prophesied the Mistress.
"And a hundred more. See how he loves to have me pet him! And,
look--he's learned, already, to shake hands; and--"
"Fine!" applauded the Master. "So when it comes our turn to be visited
by this motor-Raffles, the puppy will shake hands with him, and
register love of petting; and the burly marauder will be