body with loving tenderness. Dorcas, weeping hysterically, fell
on her knees beside Chum and put her arms about the huddled
shape. She seemed to be trying to say something, her lips close
to one of the furry little ears.

"No use!" broke in Ferris, his voice as grating as a file's. "He
can't hear you now. No good to tell him you hate dogs; or that
you're glad you've saw the last of him. Even if he was alive, he
wouldn't understand that. He'd never been spoke to that way."

"Don't! Oh, don't!" sobbed the girl. "Oh, I'm so--"

"If you're crying for Chum," went on the grating voice, "there's
no need to. He was only just a dog. He didn't know any better but
to get his life smashed out'n him, so somebody else could go on
living. All he asked was to be with me and work for me and love
me. After you said he couldn't keep on doing that, there ain't
any good in your crying for him. It must be nice--if you'll only
stop crying long enough to think of it--to know he's out of your
way. And I'M out of it too!" he went on in a gust of fury.
"S'pose you two just toddle on, now, and leave me to take him
home. I got the right to that, anyhow."

He stooped to pick up the dog; and he winked with much rapidity
to hold back an annoying mist which came between him and Chum.
His mouth corners, too, were twitching in a way that shamed him.
He had a babyish yearning to bury his face in his dead friend's
fur, and cry.

"DON'T!" Dorcas was wailing. "Oh, you can't punish me any worse