"No, sir," said Jonas; "we call him Franco."

"If he should come at the call of Ney, that would be proof. Where is he
now?"

"He is with me, sir; he is out in my sleigh."

"O, well, then," said the man, "we can tell in a moment. I'll step to
the door and call him."

So Mr. Edwards put on his hat, and stepped to the door. The dog was
standing up in the sleigh, and looking wildly around. When he saw Mr.
Edwards, he seemed more excited still.

"Here, Ney," said Mr. Edwards.

The dog leaped down from the sled, and came bounding up the road. He
leaped first about Mr. Edwards, and then about Jonas, as if at a loss
which was his master.

"Why, Ney," said Mr. Edwards,--"poor Ney,--have you got back at last?
Come, walk in, Ney."

Ney slipped in through the door, and turned immediately into the little
room, as if he was perfectly familiar with the localities. Jonas and Mr.
Edwards followed. They shut the door, and took their seats again. Ney
ran around the room, and examined every thing. He looked at the strange
dog lying so comfortably in his old place upon the warm carpet, and then
came and gazed up eagerly into his old master's face a moment. He came
to Jonas, and wagged his tail, and then he went to the door and whined,