The man glanced around uneasily. "I couldn't do that, sir," he explained, "You see, it isn't a question of money; it's a question of my promised word to the lady."
Mr. Cordyce failed to "see." "She can find another dog, among two hundred Airedales, I guess," he returned. "And, besides, you don't know positively that this is the right dog."
"Excuse me," replied the man, very much embarrassed, "he's the dog, all right. He knows me, as you see. His name is Rough No. 3. He has a black spot inside his ear."
It was too true. Indeed, at the mere mention of his name the dog cocked an ear and wagged his tail. But he had seated himself as close to Jess as possible, and licked her hand when she patted him.
But it appeared that Henry could understand the man's position even if Mr. Cordyce could not. He now put in a timid word of his own.
"If the lady would agree to let the dog go, would you be willing?"
"Sure," said the man, shooting a glance at Henry.
"I almost know any one would let us keep
