"Well, old chap," I said, as I scratched his nose ever so gently, "you
at least have no one to think of but me and Tim there, eh?"

[Illustration: "Well, old chap!"]

"No," cried Captain heartily.

That was not the exact word that he used, but he expressed it by
beating his tail against the table and giving a long howl.

"And if Tim, there, goes dawdling after a woman, we shall stick to the
ridges, and the foxes, and the rabbits. We can't go as fast as we used
to, Captain, but we can go together, eh?"

"The same as ever and the same forever," cried Captain.

Those were not his exact words, but I saw his answer in his eyes, for
he had climbed higher and they were close to mine. He seemed ready to
swallow me.

"And when he brings her home, Captain," said I, "and fills the whole
house with young ones who'll pull your tail and tickle your ears and
play horse with my crutches, we shall sit outside and smoke our pipes
alone, in peace and quiet, eh, Captain?"

"Oho!" cried Captain. "That we will, and you never need want, Mark,
for I've many a fine bone buried away against old age and rainy
weather."