Then she frowned. She was conscious of the racket Colonel, the
big collie was making in his run. It occurred to her that the
dog had been raving for an hour past, but she had been so intent
on supper that she had laid the uproar to Lester who loved to
play with the bunch and get them excited.

She stepped toward the window to speak to Colonel, when she heard
a shout from Wugs. The shout wavered, and turned to a wild, high
scream of horror. Elinor stood motionless. Then shriek after
shriek split the air, and the girl sped to the front door, dashed
it open, snapping on the porch light as she passed the switch in
the hall. She gained the steps in her mad rush and paused.
Wugs's agonized voice guided her down to the side of the wide
veranda. She dashed to his side and looked down where he was
kneeling.

Poor, poor Elinor! Her brother--her darling Lester--lay there
limp and distorted, and from an ugly wound on his forehead the
blood oozed slowly. Beside him, her head on his breast, his
Beatrice, his special pet. She was dead; but with her last
strength she had crept to the side of her beloved master she
tried to defend.

Wugs looked up, his eyes wild with terror.

"He's dead! He's dead! Les is dead!" he kept saying.

Elinor knelt, put her ear on his heart, then sprang to her feet.

"Be a man, John," she, said quietly. "Les is living. We will