The Mistress's first question was for Lad. Terror seized upon the guide's boy, as he remembered where he had left the dog. He glanced obliquely at the truckman, who had unloaded and who was cranking.
"Now--" said the scared youth, glibly, avoiding his father's unsuspecting eye. "Now--now, Lad he was settin' 'twixt Simmons and me. And he hops down and runs off around the house, towards--towards the lake--soon as we stopped here. Most likely he was thirsty-like, or something."The Mistress was busy with details of the car's unpacking. So she accepted the explanation. It seemed probable that the long and dusty ride should have made Lad thirsty; and that after his drink at the lake, he had made the rounds of the Place; as ever was his wont after his few brief absences from home.
Not until dinnertime did she give another thought to her loved pet's absence. The guide and his boy had long since departed, on the truck, for their ten-mile distant home. Nor, even yet, did it occur to the Mistress to question the truth of the youngster's story. She merely wondered why, for the first time in his life, Lad should absent himself at dinnertime from his time-honored place on the dining-room floor, at the Master's left. And, amusedly, she recalled what her husband had said of the stately dog's new propensity for mischief. Perhaps Lad was exploring the friendly home-woods in search of a bear!
But when ten o'clock came and Lad did not seek the shelter of his "cave" under the music-room piano, for the night, there was real worry. The Mistress went out on the veranda and sounded long and shrilly upon the silver whistle which hung from her belt.
From puppyhood, Laddie had always come, at a sweeping gallop, on sound of this whistle. Its notes could travel, through still air, for a half mile or more. Their faintest echoes always brought the dog in eager response. But tonight, a dozen wait-punctuated blasts brought no other response than to set the distant village dogs to barking.
The Mistress went back into the house, genuinely worried. Acting on a sudden idea, she called up the Place's superintendent, at the gatelodge.
"You were down here when the truck came to the house this afternoon, weren't you?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," said the man. "I was waiting for it. Mike and Ihelped Simmons to unload."
"Did you see which way Lad went, when he jumped out of the truck?" pursued the Mistress. "Or have any of you seen him since then?""Why, no, ma'am," came the puzzled answer. "I haven't seen him at all. I supposed he was in the car with you, and that maybe he'd been in the house ever since. He wasn't on the truck: That's one sure thing. I saw it stop; and I stayed till they finished emptying it. Lad wasn't there."There was a moment's pause. Then, the Mistress spoke again. Her voice slightly muffled, she said:
"Please find out if there is plenty of gas in my car;--enough to take it--say, forty miles. Thank you.""What on earth--?" began the Master, as his wife left the telephone and picked up an ulster.
"Laddie didn't come home on the truck," she made tremulous reply.
"And he wasn't with us. He hasn't come home all.""He'll find his way, easily enough," returned the Master, albeit with no great assurance. "Lad's found his way farther than that.
He--"
"If he was going to find his way," interrupted the Mistress, "he'd have found it before now. I know Laddie. So do you. He is up there. And he can't get back. He--""Nonsense!" laughed the Master. "Why, of course, he--""He is up there," insisted the Mistress, "and he can't get back.
I know him well enough to be, sure he'd have overtaken us, when we stopped all those times to fix the tires;--if he had been left behind. And I know something else: When we started on, after that first puncture, we were about half a mile below the knoll. And as we went around the bend, there was a gap in the trees. I was looking back. For a second, I could see the lean-to, outlined ever so clearly against the sky. And alongside of it was standing some animal. It was far away; and we passed out of sight so suddenly, that I couldn't see what it was; except that it was large and dark. And it seemed to be struggling to move from where it stood. I was going to speak to you about it,--I supposed it was that black bear of Laddie's,--when we had the next puncture.
And that made me forget all about it;--till now. Of course, it never occurred to me it could be Lad. Because Barret had said he was in the truck. But--but oh, it WAS Laddie! He--he was fastened, or caught, in some way. I know he was. Why, I could see him struggle to--""Come on!" broke in the Master, hustling into his mackinaw.
"Unless you'll stay here, while I--"
"No," she protested. "I'm going. And I'm going because I'm thinking of the same thing that's troubling you. I'm thinking of those forest fires and of what you said about the wind changing and--""Come on!" repeated the Master; starting for the garage.
Which shows how maudlinly foolish two otherwise sane people can be; when they are lucky enough to own such a dog as Sunnybank Lad. Naturally, the right course, at so cold and late an hour of the autumn night, and after a long day of packing and motoring and unpacking, was to go to bed; and to trust to luck that the wise old collie would find his way back again. Instead, the two set off on a twenty-mile wildgoose chase, with worried faces and fast-beating hearts. It did not occur to either of them to stay at home; or to send someone else on the long, frosty drive in search of the missing dog.
Lad had watched the preparations for departure with increasing worry. Also, the abnormally sensitive old fellow was wretchedly unhappy. Except at dog-shows, he had never before been tied up.
And at such shows, the Mistress and the Master were always on hand to pet and reassure him. Yet, here, he had suffered himself to be tied by a smelly rope to the rotting post of a lean-to, by a comparative stranger. And, in the open ground below the hillock, his deities moved back and forth without so much as an upward glance at him.
