confiding glances of its soft, dark eyes.

Oh, luckless Bab! why did you turn your back? Oh, too accomplished
Sancho! why did you neatly untie that knot and trot away to confer
with the disreputable bull-dog who stood in the entrance beckoning
with friendly wavings of an abbreviated tail? Oh, much afflicted Ben!
why did you delay till it was too late to save your pet from the
rough man who set his foot upon the trailing strap and led poor Sanch
quickly out of sight among the crowd.

"It _was_ Bascum, but he didn't know anything. Why, where's Sanch?"
said Ben, returning.

A breathless voice made Bab turn to see Ben looking about him with as
much alarm in his hot face as if the dog had been a two years' child.

"I tied him--he's here somewhere--with the ponies," stammered Bab, in
sudden dismay, for no sign of a dog appeared as her eyes roved wildly
to and fro.

Ben whistled, called and searched in vain, till one of the lounging
men said, lazily:

"If you are looking after the big poodle you'd better go outside; I
saw him trotting off with another dog."

Away rushed Ben, with Bab following, regardless of the rain, for both
felt that a great misfortune had befallen them. But, long before this,
Sancho had vanished, and no one minded his indignant howls as he was
driven off in a covered cart.