Then he led Jan to the back porch where the tub of clean soapsuds was
ready, and again the dog was washed thoroughly and the salve applied to
his sores. Though Jan's heart was almost bursting with gratitude, he
could only show it by poking his nose against the kindly hand, or
uttering low whimpers.

"I know, old fellow," his new friend said, "you're trying to thank me.
It's all right now. Don't worry!"

And Prince Jan knew that it was all right. That night he slept on the
soft comforter in the little house.

As day after day went past, Jan began to feel strong again, but it took
eight long months before his beautiful hair grew out and his eyes at
last lost their pitiful pleading. At first he could not understand about
his new friend, whom he heard other men call "Captain Smith, the
poundmaster." He remembered what the little white dog had said about
pounds being places where dogs were killed when they had no friends to
claim them, but Jan knew that his friend would not hurt any dog.

Each day, now, Jan followed the captain into the long room where dogs
were tied with ropes, just as he, himself, had been kept that first
night. During sunshiny days of the snowless winter, these dogs were led
into the back yard of the bungalow. It had a high board fence, so they
could run about and stretch, or lie in the warm grass.

None of these dogs ever stayed very long, but they all soon learned to
love the old captain and would rush around his feet or crawl against
him, wagging their tails. A few, bolder than the others, leaped up to