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"You sure have got a great head on you." She bent over him, and put her hand on the browny-black patch behind his ears. . . . Binks growled; he disliked familiarity from people he did not know. "Look out, Joan," said Vane nervously. "He's a little funny with strangers sometimes."
Anyway, it was not anything to make a song or dance about putting a cold wet nose into a hand that hung down from a chair, and letting it rest there just for a while. . . . But it was not the first time, and it will not be the last, that the Peace that passeth all understanding has been brought to the human heart by the touch of a dog. . . . Binks had justified his inclusion in the trip. . . .
'They two dogs, they be summat like a couple o' wild b'ys; they keeps the passon and the mistress in, not for to say hot water, but bilin' water, for the livelong day! constantly declared Binks, who was the handy-man at the Vicarage, and, in fact, handy-man at the little church as well, he being both factotum and sexton.
He succeeded to the seat on a camel vacated by the ill-fated Binks, and every jolt hurt his side; the head and hand wounds were not much affected by the motion, but every violent jerk caused the other to gape and bleed, and the dressing had to be renewed at every halt where water was obtainable.
And yet there are some people who deliberately set out to go somewhere. . . ." "There are two things which precluded such an insane possibility," he said. "The first is Binks; he likes to run about. And the second is that unless I have a kiss within one second I shall blow up. . . ." "Of course you've known Binks longer than me, so I suppose I mustn't object to the order of precedence."
Surely his master had not forgotten the rules of the game. Really it was a little steep if it was so. But Vane, as far as Binks could see, was looking at one of the photographs on the mantelpiece with a slight smile on his face. One or two mournful whistles produced no apparent result. So Binks decided it was time for desperate measures.
God give 'em smooth seas to sail over! added the old man under his breath, as he watched the captain's daughters cross the lawn above. Time was, far back in years, when Binks had watched with pride such another maiden as 'Miss Theedory, the daughter God had given, or, rather, had lent, for a little while, to the parents who idolised her. The frosts of death nipped the human flower.
Every sense was merged in the mad race of trying to cut still faster through the water to the rescue. The hard, brown visage of Binks was a dead wall as he pulled and puffed and panted. From it Geoff could gain no information, and, somehow, for his life, the boy dare not turn his head to see over his shoulder for himself.
The Accursed Thing emitted a mournful hoot, as Binks, hearing his name spoken, raised his head and looked up at his master. His tail thumped the floor feverishly, and his great brown eyes glowed with a mute inquiry. "To walk, or not to walk" that was the question. The answer was apparently in the negative, for the moment at any rate, and he again returned to the attack. "You see my guile, Mrs.
Vesey lay watching the bay from her open windows, Binks, the old handy-man, moved about on the lawn outside, now and again exchanging remarks with his mistress as he passed and repassed. 'Muster Geoff, he've come, ma'am! said he presently, peering in the room. 'Oh, has he? Where is he, Binks? 'He've stepped round to the stable for Splutters and Shutters, ma'am, that's where he be.
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