suddenly tighten--his height, even now, allowed her to hold the young
hound's collar easily without using a lead, for he stood over thirty-one
inches at the shoulder--and, glancing down, saw the hair all about his
neck and shoulder-bones rise, stiffly bristling. In the same moment came
a low growl from Finn, who walked at large on the far side of Jan and a
little behind the Master. There was no anger in this growl of Finn's;
but it was eloquent of warning, and magisterial in its hint of penalties
to follow neglect of warning.

"Why, what's wrong now, old--Ah! I see!" exclaimed the Master.

On the opposite side of the approach was David Crumplin, walking toward
the goods-shed of the little station, and followed closely by the
redoubtable Grip. Grip's hackles were well up, too, for the three dogs
had seen one another before their human friends had noticed anything out
of the ordinary. But though Grip's bristles had risen just as stiffly as
Jan's, and though the sensitive skin over his nostrils had wrinkled
harshly and his upper lip lifted slightly, the gaze of his wall-eyes was
fixed straight before him upon his master's gaiters. He saw Finn and Jan
just as plainly as they saw him, but he never turned a hair's-breadth in
their direction, or betrayed his recognition by a single glance.

Grip was no swashbuckler, and he never played. Life, as he saw it, was
too serious a business for that. But and if fighting was toward, well,
Grip was ready; not eager, but deadly ready, and nothing backward. Grip
had his black cap either in place on his head or very close at hand all
the time. It was doubtless with a sufficiently sardonic sneer that he
presently saw Jan jump obediently into the wagonette. Grip had seen to
the carting of thousands of lambs and sick ewes; but for himself to
climb into a horse-drawn vehicle at the bidding of a lady!--one can