Siward said: "You should let him run, Miss Landis."

She nodded, smiling, inattentive, absorbed in her own affairs, still
theorising concerning her telegram. She drove on for a while, and might
have forgotten the dog entirely had he not once more lifted his voice in
melancholy.

"You say he ought to run for a mile or two? Do you think he'll bolt, Mr.
Siward?"

"Is he a new dog?"

"Yes, fresh from the kennels; supposed to be house-and wagon-broken,
steady to shot and wing--" She shrugged her pretty shoulders. "You see
how he's acting already!"

"Do you mind if I try him?" suggested Siward.

"You mean that you are going to let him run?"

"I think so."

"And if he bolts?"

"I'll take my chances."

"Yes, but please consider my chances, Mr. Siward. The dog doesn't belong
to me."