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If you keep on growling the bear and my bull pup will think you are an animal and sail into you for keeps." "As I was about to say," reminded Grace, "my husband is a forester and is in the North Woods now on official business. He was with us when the fire occurred, and will join us further along in a few weeks." "Eh?
In fact, it seemed to be rather thankful than otherwise for a kick when it chanced to receive one, and a pat on the head, or a kind word made it all but jump out of its black skin for very joy. Bremner called it "Pup." It had no other name, and didn't seem to wish for one.
He was not a beautiful pup, this Peter Pied-Bot or Peter Club-foot, as Jolly Roger McKay who lived over in the big cedar swamp had named him when he gave Peter to the girl. He was, in a way, an accident and a homely one at that.
But there was another way which hadn't occurred to me. Marriage, I mean. Marriage, the dynamite of the soul; that was what hit Bobbie. He married. Have you ever seen a bull-pup chasing a bee? The pup sees the bee. It looks good to him. But he still doesn't know what's at the end of it till he gets there. It was like that with Bobbie.
As I had never, and have never, seen a jungle dog pup, I neither could then, nor can now, undertake to say whether the pup was a wild one or not, though it seemed to me that it might have been a kind of mongrel animal with a good deal of the pariah dog in it. The natives then requested the cook to take the pup and pay them five rupees for their trouble.
Pup watched his every movement with an expression of earnest solicitude, combined with goodwill, in his sharp intelligent eyes. When supper was ready Pup had his share, then, feeling that the duties of the day were now satisfactorily accomplished, he coiled himself up at his master's feet, and went to sleep.
"Want a guide, Mister?" questioned a young man dressed as a lumberjack, lounging up to Lieutenant Wingate. "I kin take ye anywheres." "We have one," replied Hippy briefly. "I don't see none. Who be he?" "Name's Hindenburg," said Hippy, pointing to the bull pup. "Greatest little guide west of the Atlantic Ocean. I paid a thousand dollars for his bark alone.
"You poor little pup," says he; "you haven't no show," he says. "That brute in the tap-room he'll eat your heart out." "That's what you think," says the Master, snarling. "I'll lay you a quid the Kid chews him up." The groom he shook his head, but kept looking at me so sorry-like that I begun to get a bit sad myself.
"I have it," he gasped to his secretary. "The mystery is solved. I have pieced it together. By sheer analysis I have reasoned it out. Listen hind legs, hair on back, wet snout, pup eh, what? does that suggest nothing to you?" "Nothing," said the secretary; "it seems perfectly hopeless." The Great Detective, now recovered from his excitement, smiled faintly. "It means simply this, my dear fellow.
"And I presume you mentioned the sheep?" "As a matter of fact," said Tommy confidentially, "his letter was little but mutton. He described all his ewes in detail " "Colour of their eyes?" queried Wally. "And their hair," nodded Tommy. "I never read anything so poetical. And any enthusiasm he had over went to the pigs and the Kelpie pup!" "But what about the cows?" laughed Norah.
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