But he'll be all right in a few days--and we'll go on watching the
mountains--and thinking--and chasing foxes--to the end--the end that
comes to all poor dogs."

"It's curious how attached one gets to a dog," said Perry sagely,
resuming his rocking from heel to toe and toe to heel.

"It is curious," I said, smoking calmly. I even forced a grim smile.

Now that I could smile, I was prepared to hear what Perry had to tell
me, for after all I had been drawing conclusions from what might prove
to be but inferences of his. But he had been so positive that in my
inmost heart I knew the import of all he had to say.

"Well, Perry," I said, "you did give me a surprise. I didn't know it,
and, to tell the truth, was taken back a bit, for it hurt me here." I
imitated his effective waistcoat-pocket gesture, which caused him much
amusement. "I had hopes myself--you know that, and as I neither
fiddled nor recited poetry your own conclusions may be wrong."

"But Tim didn't do nothin'," Perry cackled. "He just goes away and
lets her pine. When he comes back she falls right into his arms and
gazes up into his eyes, and--" Perry stopped rocking and looked into
the fire. "You know, Mark," he said after a pause, "it must be nice
not to be disappointed."

"It must be very nice," said I, smoking harder than ever.

"That's what I said to myself as I looked in the window and seen them."