and less jubilantly than of old. He took to moping. And he spent
more time than before in his beloved "cave," under the music-room
piano.

Moping and solitude are no more beneficial to dogs than to
humans. The Master racked his brain for some way of bringing the
splendid collie back to his olden spirits.

Luck, or fate, took the matter out of his hands.

The Mistress and the Master were invited to spend a week with
some friends whose house stood in an ultra-restricted residential
park, high up in the Catskills. By leaving the Place at sunrise,
they could reach the Park, by motor, in time for afternoon tea.

At dawn, the car was brought to the door. Its tonneau was piled
with luggage; and all was ready for a start as soon as the
unappetizingly early breakfast could be swallowed.

Wolf and Lady, after following the car from the garage to the
door, wearied of the uninspiring wait; and set forth at a
hand-gallop for the woods. There, at dawning, the dew would lie
heavy. And wet ground ever holds scent better than does dry. It
would be easy to pick up and follow rabbit trails, through the
damp.

Lad made as though to follow them. He ran out of the house and
half-way up the drive in pursuit of their flashing gold-and-white
flight. Neither turned a head at sound of his following steps.
Neither slackened pace to include him in the hunt.