And now three of Lad's senses told him he was no longer alone in
his tedious vigil. Down the drive, moving with amusing slowness
and silence, a man was coming. He was on foot. And he was fairly
well dressed. Dogs, the foremost snobs in creation,--are quick to
note the difference between a well-clad and a disreputable
stranger.

Here unquestionably was a visitor:--some such man as so often
came to the Place and paid such flattering attention to the
puppy. No longer need Lad be bored by the solitude of this
particular night. Someone was coming towards the house;--and
carrying a small bag under his arm. Someone to make friends with.
Lad was very happy.

Deep in his throat a welcoming bark was born. But he stilled it.
Once, when he had barked at the approach of a stranger, the
stranger had gone away. If this stranger were to go away, all the
night's fun would go with him. Also, no later than yesterday, the
Master had scolded Lad for barking at a man who had called.
Wherefore the dog held his peace.

Getting to his feet and stretching himself, fore and aft, in true
collie fashion, the pup gamboled up the drive to meet the
visitor.

The man was feeling his way through the pitch darkness, groping
cautiously; halting once or twice for a smolder of lightning to
silhouette the house he was nearing. In a wooded lane, a quarter
mile away, his lightless motor car waited.