Leo understood, but he looked around in evident perplexity.

"Take him to the depot!" said Mr. Trevlyn, "he may find the trail there."

They went to the station; the dog sniffed hurriedly at the platform, and
in a moment more dashed off into the highway leading to Harrison Park.

"Him got him!" cried Pietro; "him find my master!"

The whole company joined in following the dog. He went straight ahead,
his nose to the ground, his fleet limbs bearing him along with a rapidity
that the anxious followers found it hard to emulate.

At a brook which crossed the road he stopped, seemed a little confused,
crossed it finally on stepping stones, paused a moment by the side of a
bare nut tree, leaped the fence, and dashed off through a grass field.
Keeping steadily on, he made for the grounds of the Park, passed the
drained pond, and the frost-ruined garden, and pausing before the
inclosure where slept the Harrison dead, he lifted his head and gave
utterance to a howl so wild, so savagely unearthly, that it chilled the
blood in the veins of those who heard. An instant he paused, and then
dashing through the hedge, was lost to view.

"He is found! My master is found!" said Pietro, solemnly, removing his
cap, and wiping a tear from his eye. For the man was attached to Mr. Paul
Linmere, in his rough way, and the tear was one of genuine sorrow.

His companions looked at each other. Alexandrine grasped the arm of
Margie, and leaned heavily upon her.