As the Colonel came nearer she tossed another berry into the dog's
mouth. A twig snapped, and she raised a startled face toward him.

"Suh?" she said, timidly, for it seemed to her that the stern, piercing
eyes had spoken.

"What are you doing here, child?" he asked, in a voice so much kinder
than his eyes that she regained her usual self-possession at once.

"Eatin' 'trawberries," she answered, coolly.

"Who are you, anyway?" he exclaimed, much puzzled. As he asked the
question his gaze happened to rest on the dog, who was peering at him
through the ragged, elfish wisps of hair nearly covering its face, with
eyes that were startlingly human.

"'Peak when yo'ah 'poken to, Fritz," she said, severely, at the same
time popping another luscious berry into her mouth. Fritz obediently
gave a long yelp. The Colonel smiled grimly.

"What's your name?" he asked, this time looking directly at her.

"Mothah calls me her baby," was the soft-spoken reply, "but papa an' Mom
Beck they calls me the Little Cun'l."

"What under the sun do they call you that for?" he roared.

"'Cause I'm so much like you," was the startling answer.