Are you sure you are fully alive to the gravity of the
situation, Bel?''

The dog felt himself safe in answering a rising inflection
ending in his name uttered in that tone, and wagged
eager assent.

``Well then,'' said the man, ``which shall it be? Do I
leave home for the noise and grime of the city, open an
office and enter the money-making scramble?''

Every word was strange to the dog, almost breathlessly
waiting for a familiar syllable. The man gazed
steadily into the animal's eyes. After a long pause he
continued:

``Or do I remain at home to harvest the golden seal,
mullein, and ginseng, not to mention an occasional hour
with the black bass or tramps for partridge and cotton-
tails?''

The dog recognized each word of that. Before the
voice ceased, his sleek sides were quivering, his nostrils
twitching, his tail lashing, and at the pause he leaped up
and thrust his nose against the face of the man. The
Harvester leaned back laughing in deep, full-chested
tones; then he patted the dog's head with one hand and
renewed his grip with the other.

``Good old Bel!'' he cried exultantly. ``Six years you