The trifling episode which served to draw more general attention to
Jan's all-round intelligence--which actually was considerably above the
average level for a half-grown youngster--concerned Betty Murdoch in
particular. It chanced that on a certain gray morning toward the close
of the year Betty had a sudden curiosity to see again the hill-side cave
beside which she had found Desdemona and Jan six months before. The gray
weather, so far from depressing Betty, often moved her to take long
walks; and if no other companion happened to be available, she could
always be sure of Jan's readiness to bear her company, as he did on this
occasion.

The fact that Betty did not appear at luncheon-time roused little
comment. She often was late for luncheon, and the only meal over which
Nuthill folk made a special point of being punctual was dinner. Still,
when three o'clock brought no sign of Betty, and the short day's decline
was at hand, the Master and the Mistress did begin to wonder. Then Jan
arrived, apparently rather in a hurry, and very talkative. His short
barks and little whines left no doubt about his determination to attract
attention; and the manner in which he bustled into the hall, hastily
nuzzled the Master's hand or coat-sleeve, and bustled, whining, back to
the porch, told those concerned, as plainly as words could, that he
wanted them to accompany him.

"Why, what's this?" said the Master. "I wonder if Betty is in sight."

Out in the garden nothing could be seen of Betty; but having led his
friends so far, Jan became more than ever insistent in demanding their
attendance on the path leading to the little orchard gate that opened
upon the Downs.