Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net







[Illustration: Don had finished his trick of marching around like a
soldier dog, with the broom for a gun.]




                       _Kneetime Animal Stories_

                                 DON,
                             A RUNAWAY DOG

                          HIS MANY ADVENTURES


                                  BY
                            RICHARD BARNUM

          Author of “Squinty, the Comical Pig,” “Slicko, the
             Jumping Squirrel,” “Mappo, the Merry Monkey,”
                  “Tum Tum, the Jolly Elephant,” etc.


                            _ILLUSTRATED BY
                          HARRIET H. TOOKER_


                               NEW YORK
                            BARSE & HOPKINS
                              PUBLISHERS




KNEETIME ANIMAL STORIES

By Richard Barnum

_Illustrated._


  SQUINTY, THE COMICAL PIG
  SLICKO, THE JUMPING SQUIRREL
  MAPPO, THE MERRY MONKEY
  TUM TUM, THE JOLLY ELEPHANT
  DON, A RUNAWAY DOG
  DIDO, THE DANCING BEAR
  BLACKIE, A LOST CAT
  FLOP EAR, THE FUNNY RABBIT
  TINKLE, THE TRICK PONY
  LIGHTFOOT, THE LEAPING GOAT

(_Other volumes in preparation_)

 BARSE & HOPKINS
 Publishers      New York

                            Copyright, 1915
                                  by
                            Barse & Hopkins

                         _Don, A Runaway Dog_


                            MADE IN U.S.A.




CONTENTS


 CHAPTER                           PAGE
     I  DON FALLS IN                  7
    II  DON’S NEW HOME               17
   III  DON AND SQUINTY              26
    IV  DON SEES TUM TUM             36
     V  DON RUNS AWAY                47
    VI  DON IS LOCKED IN             56
   VII  DON IN THE CITY              68
  VIII  DON AND THE CAN              75
    IX  DON AND THE DOG CATCHER      87
     X  DON’S NEW FRIEND             96
    XI  DON AT A PARTY              104
   XII  DON AND THE BEAR            115




ILLUSTRATIONS


 Don had finished his trick of marching around like a
     soldier dog, with the broom for a gun           _Frontispiece_

                                                              PAGE

 “He’s a fine dog!” cried Bob, as he patted and rubbed Don      23

 He turned quickly to shake his head and horns at Don           39

 Other dogs, coming to the fountain to get a drink, wanted
     to take Don’s bone away from him                           65

 “Get out of there, dog!” cried the policeman                   81

 He was all tangled up in the meshes of the net, and he
     fell down                                                  99

 “It’s my dog, Don, that ran away from the farm a long
     while ago!”                                               117




DON, A RUNAWAY DOG




CHAPTER I

DON FALLS IN


Don was one of five little puppies. With his brothers and sisters he
cuddled up close to Mrs. Gurr, the mother dog, to keep warm, for it was
rather cool for little dogs, even though there was plenty of straw in
the kennel, or house, where they lived. Don shivered and trembled, but
when his mother put her soft, warm paw over him and the other little
dogs, Don felt better.

Don was such a little puppy that, as yet, his eyes were not open. I
suppose they were made to stay closed until he grew to be a little
stronger, for the sunlight was very bright outside of the kennel, and
Don might have squinted, had his eyes been open.

But then Don and his brothers and sisters did not need to see much when
they were so little.

“I can tell you everything that happens,” said Mrs. Gurr, the mamma
dog. “You little puppies just stay close together when I go out to get
a bone, or something else to eat, and you will keep warm, and nothing
will happen to you.

“Humm! Humm! Humm!” whined Don. He really was the largest and strongest
of the litter of puppies, and perhaps that is why he seemed to come
first.

“What’s that you’re saying?” asked his mother. For you know, doggies
have a language of their own. They cannot speak as we do, but they can
understand when we speak to them. Dogs are smarter in some ways than we
are. They can understand, and know, what we say to them, but _we_ can
only guess at what they say, when they bark, growl or whine.

“What’s that you say?” asked Mrs. Gurr, of Don.

“Humm! Umph! Wee-wee!” went Don.

“Oh, you’re cold, are you?” asked Mrs. Gurr, who had this name because
she sometimes made a noise that sounded that way――“gurr”――away down in
her throat.

“Yes, I’m cold,” said Don, shivering.

“Well, cuddle up close to me, and you’ll soon be warm,” said the mamma
dog. So Don, and his brothers Spot and Prince, and his sisters Violet
and Ruby, crept still closer to their mother, for she was a big dog,
and her hair was very warm.

For over a week Don and the other little dogs could see nothing,
because their eyes were not open. They could hear strange noises going
on outside their kennel, but they did not know what they meant.

Don especially, had many adventures, and a great many strange things
happened to him. In this book I am going to tell you all about them,
how he ran away, and was locked in a freight car, and how a bad boy
tied a tin can to his tail――but there――I am getting ahead of my story.
Those things did not happen until Don grew to be big. So I shall have
to start at the beginning.

And the beginning was when Don still did not have his eyes open.

Whining, barking just a little, and tumbling about like little balls
of cotton yarn, Don and the other puppies stayed in the straw in the
kennel with their mother. Sometimes she went out to get something to
eat, and then the little dogs crept closer to each other to keep warm.
They slept a great deal of the time, for dogs, like babies, grow when
they sleep.

Once, just before Don had his eyes open, he heard strange noises
outside of the kennel house where he lived. Don did not know what the
noises meant, but I shall tell you what they were. They were the voices
of some boys talking.

“Oh, look at the puppies!” exclaimed one boy.

“What a lot of them,” said another.

“Yes, and they’re all mine,” spoke a third boy.

“Oh, Willie! Can’t I have one?” asked the first boy, and he reached
down in the straw, and picked up Don. Mrs. Gurr, the mamma dog, growled
a little and whined, for she did not like strange boys to handle her
little puppies.

“You can’t have that one, Charlie,” answered the boy who had been
called Willie.

“Why not?” asked Charlie.

“Because I promised him to Bobbie Black,” said Willie. “Bobbie came one
day, and picked that puppy out for his. He’s going to call him Don, Bob
is.”

“That’s a fine dog,” said Charlie, as he gently put the puppy Don back
in the straw again. “I wish I had one.”

“You can have that one,” said Willie, and he pointed to Prince.

Of course Don did not understand all this talk, but his mamma
understood. She whined when she heard Willie talking about giving her
puppies away. Willie was the boy at the house where the man lived who
owned Mrs. Gurr and the puppies.

“When is Bob coming for his dog?” asked Charlie.

“Oh, as soon as they get their eyes open,” answered Willie. “That will
be in a few days, now.”

The boys stayed a little longer, and then they went off to play ball――I
mean the boys went off to play ball for, though puppy dogs can do many
queer things, I never saw any of them play ball――did you?

Wait, though, if you please. Once, in a circus, I did see a dog bounce
a big, red, rubber ball about with his nose, but that was not exactly
playing as the boys do, so I suppose it did not count.

All at once, one day, a very strange thing happened to Don and the
other puppies. Their eyes were suddenly opened, and the darkness they
had been in so long gave place to light.

Out in front of the kennel was a broad patch of sunlight, and the straw
in the kennel itself looked like streaks of gold. Up over head was blue
sky, and the green trees waved their branches.

“Oh, what is it all?” asked Don, as he stood up with his little legs
far apart. He had to stand that way, for he was not very strong as
yet, and, though he tried to stand steadily, he swayed to and fro as
the elephants do in the circus when they are eating peanuts. “What is
all that which I see?” asked Don, speaking in dog language, which he
understood without being taught.

“That is part of the world you live in,” said Mrs. Gurr. “You see the
sunshine, the shadows and the trees.”

“What makes the trees wiggle so?” asked Prince, who was one of Don’s
brothers.

“The wind blows them,” said the mother dog. “And when you go outside
the kennel, and the wind blows, you must be careful not to get dust in
your eyes. For your eyes are open now, you know, and if you don’t take
care you’ll get things in them. So watch out when you leave the kennel.”

“Why!” exclaimed Don. “Is there anything outside of our kennel? I
thought this was the only place there was.”

“Oh, indeed there are many more places than this,” said Mrs. Gurr, with
sort of a barking laugh. “This is only a very small part of the world.
You will find it very large when you start out. I hope you do not get
lost.”

“What do you mean――lost?” asked Don.

“Going so far away you cannot find your way back to the kennel,” said
the mother dog. “When you children are a little older, I shall give
you some lessons in how to find your way home when you go away from it.”

So the days went on, the sun shone warmer and warmer, and the leaves
grew larger on the trees, for summer was coming. And as the tree leaves
grew, so the little puppy dogs grew, until they were large enough to
run outside the kennel, and play about on the ground.

They were not very strong on their legs as yet, and often Don and
his brothers and sisters would tumble and fall, as they raced about,
playing a game something like your game of tag.

“Come on, let’s have a race, Prince,” said Don one day.

“All right, I will,” answered the other little puppy dog, and off they
started down the gravel path that led from their kennel.

On they went, faster and faster, turning around the corner by the
house, until, all of a sudden, they saw a queer little animal in front
of them.

“What’s that?” asked Don, stopping short.

“I don’t know,” answered Prince, speaking in dog language.

“It looks like a puppy,” went on Don, “but it doesn’t belong to our
family. See how big its tail is, and its back is all humped up. And
listen to what a funny noise it’s making.”

The other animal, on the gravel path, was hissing like a steam
radiator on a cold and frosty morning.

“Let’s go closer and see what it is,” suggested Don.

Together he and Prince went up, walking sort of sideways on their
funny, wobbling legs. Then the queer animal suddenly jumped up in the
air, and Don and Prince felt something sharp scratch their little black
noses.

“Ouch!” whined Prince.

“Wow!” howled Don. “I’m scratched.”

“Let’s go home and tell mamma!” cried Prince.

Tucking their little tails, like lead pencils, between their legs, home
they wobbled to the kennel.

“Oh mamma!” barked Don as he saw the mother dog. “You can’t guess what
happened to us.”

“No!” cried Prince. “We saw another puppy dog, and his tail was so big!
And his back was all humped up, and he made a funny noise and stuck
something sharp in our noses, and it hurt.”

“That’s what it did!” cried Don, and he rubbed his nose with his paw.

“Oh, you funny puppy dogs!” exclaimed Mrs. Gurr. “What you saw was not
a little dog.”

“What was it then?” asked Don. “It had four legs and a tail.”

“Well, everything that has four legs and a tail isn’t a puppy,” said
the mother dog. “That was a cat, and cats almost always scratch dogs,
just as we dogs almost always chase cats.”

“Oh! then if that was a cat we forgot to chase it!” cried Don. “We
didn’t know we had to. Come on back, Prince, and we’ll chase it.”

“No, you don’t need to,” said Mrs. Gurr, the dog lady. “All dogs don’t
chase cats, for some cats are nice. Besides, you wouldn’t find that cat
now. After this, be more careful, and let cats alone.”

But Don and Prince thought they knew more than their mother did, and
that afternoon they started out to find the cat who had made such a big
tail at them, and had scratched them.

They searched all over the garden, Don and Prince did, for the cat,
but they could not find her. But they had a good time, the two little
puppy dogs did, rolling over in the soft dirt, pretending to bite each
other’s ears, and playing racing games and tag.

Pretty soon Don said:

“I’m hungry. Let’s go home.”

“All right,” answered Prince. “We will.”

But when those two little puppy dogs started off, they could not find
their kennel. They did not know which way to go. First they went one
way, and then another, but the harder they tried the worse it seemed.
Though they did not know it, Don and Prince were lost.

“Oh, what shall we do?” whined Don.

“I don’t know,” answered his brother. “Let’s go this way.”

Well, they started off a new way, but, all of a sudden, Don slipped
down a bank, and right into a puddle of muddy water he fell!

“Ouch! Oh! Wow!” howled the little puppy dog, as he found himself all
wet. “Oh, what is going to happen to us?”

But Don, like nearly all animals, knew what to do when he fell into the
water. He began to paddle with his little paws, and to swim, for he did
not want to be drowned.

“Oh, can you get out? Can you get out?” howled Prince, standing on the
bank of the puddle and looking at his brother. It was not a very large
puddle, but it was pretty big for a little puppy dog.

“Can you get out?” asked Prince.

“I――I guess so! I’m trying hard!” whined Don, paddling with his paws
faster than ever.




CHAPTER II

DON’S NEW HOME


Prince, sitting on the bank of the puddle of water, was howling as
loudly as he could.

“Are you getting out, Don? Are you getting out?” asked Prince.

“Well, I――I’m trying hard!” answered Don. “I guess――glub――blulp――gurg!”
and then he could not say anything more, even in dog language, for his
mouth was full of water.

“Oh, what shall I do?” cried Prince.

Don did not have any time to answer him. He was too busy swimming.

Nearer and nearer to the bank of the puddle, off which he had slipped
into the water, swam Don. He was soon so close that he could put his
paws on the firm earth, and then he knew he was safe, and could crawl
out.

But oh! What a sorrowful looking sight poor Don was. His nice, clean
coat was covered with muddy water, which dripped down and ran from him
in little puddles.

“Oh, how are you ever going to get dry?” asked Prince.

Then Don happened to remember how once he had seen his mother out in
a rain storm. She came to the kennel quite wet, but before she went
in she shook herself very hard, and the water drops flew off her in a
shower.

“That’s what I’ll do,” thought Don. So he gave himself as big and as
hard a shake as he could, and the water flew about in a shower.

“Hi! Stop! You’re getting me wet!” howled Prince.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to,” answered Don. “But that’s the way I get dry.
You asked me that, you know.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know you were going to put the water on me,” Prince
replied. “I don’t care, though, as long as you’re safe,” and he went up
to his brother, and kissed him on his nose with his little red tongue,
Prince did, in a way dogs have.

So Don got safely out of the puddle into which he had fallen, but his
adventures for that day were not yet at an end.

“Let’s go home,” said Prince. “I’m hungry.”

“So am I,” spoke Don. “But which way is home?”

“Don’t you know?” asked Prince.

“No. Don’t you?”

The two little puppy dogs looked one at the other.

“Oh, I forgot!” cried Don. “Don’t you remember, we were lost just
before I fell in the puddle, and we’re lost yet. Oh dear!”

Then the two little puppies felt so badly that they just sat there, on
the bank of the mud puddle, and howled as loudly as they could.

I suppose you wonder what good their howling did, but I shall tell you.

Back in the kennel Mrs. Gurr, the mother dog, was waiting and wondering
why Don and Prince did not come home.

“I saw them go over that way,” spoke Violet, who was nibbling at a bit
of puppy cake.

“They were having a race,” said Ruby, who was practicing at trying to
catch her tail.

“Oh, such boys!” cried Mrs. Gurr. “I suppose they’ve gone so far away
they can’t find their way back. Come, Spot, we’ll go look for them.”

“All right,” said the other brother of Don and Prince. He was called
Spot because he had a white spot on him. Otherwise he was all black.

Mrs. Gurr and Spot hurried out of the kennel, and they had not gone
very far before they heard a noise.

“What’s that?” asked Spot, standing still and wagging his tail.

“Listen,” said his mother.

“Howl! Wow! Bur-r-r-r-r!” was the noise they heard.

“There they are!” said the dog lady. “Those are your lost brothers
calling. Come on, Spot. I know where they are now.”

Mrs. Gurr was very good at finding lost dogs, and this time she knew
just which way to go to find Don and Prince.

Soon the mother dog saw them sitting on the edge of the mud puddle,
their heads held up in the air, howling as loudly as they could howl.

“Oh my! What a noise!” cried Mrs. Gurr, with a dog laugh. “What is the
matter with you puppies, anyhow?”

“Oh, mamma! Is that you?” cried Don. “Oh, we got lost, and――”

“And Don fell in and swam out!” added Prince.

“Well, that was very smart of him, I’m sure,” said the mamma dog. “But
it was silly of you to get lost. See, the kennel is only a little way
off, just around that clump of bushes.”

Surely enough, they had been only a little way off from their home all
the while, only they did not know it.

“But we――we couldn’t find our way home,” said Don.

“No, and that shows you ought not to go too far off until you know how
to get back,” said Mrs. Gurr. “Now as soon as you get dry, Don, I’ll
give you all some lessons in how to find your way back home again, when
you get so far off you can’t see it.”

It did not take Don long to get dry in the warm sun, and then the
lessons began. For dogs, even puppy dogs, have to learn their lessons,
you know, just as you children do.

They have to learn to eat only the things that are good for them.
Sometimes a puppy will gnaw on a cake of soap, but he does not do it
more than once, for he finds out it makes him ill. And dogs have to
learn to come when their master calls them, and to lie down when they
are told, and to shake “hands,” and do other tricks――especially in a
circus.

So Mrs. Gurr showed Don, and his brothers and sisters, how to sniff and
smell along the ground, so they would know their way back again when
they had gone away from home. Dogs, you know, have very good noses for
smell. Even on a dark night, when a dog cannot see, he can tell, just
by sniffing the air, whether his master is coming along, or whether it
is some one else.

So, when a dog takes a new road his paws leave sort of a smell in the
dust. This smell stays there for some time, and when the dog wants to
get back, he just sniffs and smells along the road until he finds
where he has made his tracks before, and in that way he gets home
again. He can do that even in the dark.

It was this lesson that Don’s mother taught him, until he and the other
puppies could run a long way off from their kennel, even in the woods,
and could find their way back again.

“Now you will not get lost again, Don,” said his mother to him.

“And I don’t want to,” Don said. “Being lost is no fun.”

The puppy dog family lived in the kennel for some time longer. The
little doggies were all growing larger and stronger, and could run
about now without falling down so often. Don grew faster and larger
than any of the others.

One day two boys came walking out to the kennel where the puppies
lived. One boy was Willie, whose father owned Mrs. Gurr.

“Well, Willie, may I take my puppy now?” asked the other boy.

“Yes, Bob, I guess he’s big enough now to leave home,” said Willie.
“Are you sure you want the one you first picked out?”

“Oh, yes, sure. I’ll take him,” said Bob. “Don is the best puppy in the
lot.”

[Illustration: “He’s a fine dog!” cried Bob, as he patted and rubbed
Don.]

“Well, I’m glad he thinks I’m so nice,” said Don to himself. He had
begun to understand boy and man talk, you see, though he could not
speak it himself.

“Yes, I’ll take Don,” went on Bob.

“I wonder where he’s going to take me?” thought Don. “This is a funny
world.”

Bob stooped over and picked Don up from the pile of straw.

“He’s a fine dog!” cried Bob, as he patted and rubbed Don. Don liked
that. He was not afraid of the boy, for the boy was kind.

Then, without giving Don a chance to say good-by to his brothers and
sisters, and without even letting him kiss the mamma dog, Bob, the boy,
took Don away with him to a new home.

Don did not mind going away, for the boy was so kind and good to him,
and petted him so nicely, that Don liked him at once. And Don was not
lonesome or homesick, for he saw many new and strange things.

At last the boy went up the walk toward a big white house, and he said
to Don:

“Don, this is your new home.”

Though Don could not speak boy language, I think he understood what the
boy meant.




CHAPTER III

DON AND SQUINTY


“Mother, I have my dog!” cried Bob, as he went into the big white house
with Don.

“Have you? That’s nice. I hope he’ll be a good dog, and not come in on
my clean carpets with muddy feet,” said Bob’s mother. Don heard her say
this, and right away he made up his little doggy mind that he would be
as good as a puppy dog can be. But he had many things yet to learn.

“Oh, I’m going to train him to be very good,” said Bob to his mother.
“He won’t give you a bit of trouble, will you, Don?” and Bob held Don
high up in the air in his hands.

“Wow! Wow!” yelped Don.

“Oh, he’s afraid! Put him down!” cried a girl, with curly hair, who was
playing with a doll. She was Bob’s sister.

“Oh, I’m going to teach him not to be afraid,” said the boy, as he
still held Don high in the air. “You’re not afraid, are you, Don?”

“Wow!” said the puppy again, but this time he was not so frightened.
He knew Bob would be kind to him, and not let him fall. And Bob was
very careful.

“Where are you going to keep your dog?” asked Bob’s mother. “I can’t
have him in the house all the while.”

“Oh, I’m going to build a little kennel for him, just like he had over
at Willie’s house, where he used to live,” said Bob. “I’m going to make
a hunting dog of him. Where’s my cap, mother?”

“Oh, Bob! You never can remember where you leave your cap when you come
in!” exclaimed his mother. “Now that you have a dog I think you had
better train him to hunt your cap, and other things for you. That would
be a good kind of hunting dog.”

“I guess it would,” laughed Bob. “Well, come on, Don.”

Bob put Don down on the floor, but the puppy dog, instead of running to
his little master, when he was called, ran over toward the girl who was
playing with a doll. I guess Don had never seen a doll before.

“Here, sir! Come here when I call you!” cried Bob, snapping his fingers.

But Don paid no attention.

“He likes me best!” said the girl, with a laugh. “Come to me, Don.”

“No, Sallie, you mustn’t do that, dear,” said her mother. “If Bob is to
have a dog it must learn to mind him, and come when he calls. A dog is
not of much use unless it minds. First let the dog learn to go to Bob,
and then he will teach it to come to you when you call.”

“That’s what I will,” promised Bob. “Now, Don, you come to me!”

Don had not yet learned to mind. He still wanted to go to the little
girl named Sallie. But Bob was not going to have that. So he stooped
over and picked up Don, giving him a little shake, but, of course, not
hurting him in the least. For Bob would not do that.

“You must come to me when I call you, old fellow!” said Bob. “I want my
dog to be a good dog, and mind me.”

So that was another lesson Don had to learn, you see.

“Now we’ll try it again,” said the boy, after he had patted Don, and
stroked his silky ears. “Now come when I call, Don. And, Sallie, please
don’t try to make him come to you.”

“I won’t, this time,” promised the little girl with the doll.

Bob carried Don to one end of the room, and put him down on the floor.
Then Bob went over and stood by the door.

“Come on, Don!” he called. “Come to me, sir!” Bob snapped his fingers.
Don looked up, lifted his ears so he might hear better, and looked at
Sallie.

“No, I didn’t call you,” said the little girl.

“Here! Come to me!” cried Bob.

This time the puppy understood, and knew what was wanted of him. With a
little yelp he ran toward his new master.

“That’s right! That’s the way to do!” cried Bob. “Now he is learning to
mind. He’ll be a fine dog!”

Don was glad when he heard this, and he made up his mind to be as good
a dog as he could, even if he was little.

Don was taken out and put in a box. Instead of straw he had a piece of
old carpet to lie on.

“That will do until I can get your regular kennel made,” said Bob.
“Then I’ll put some straw in it for you to sleep on. But I guess you
must be thirsty. I’ll get you some milk.”

Don was very glad to get the nice saucer of milk which the boy soon
brought to him. He licked it all up with his red tongue――I mean Don,
the puppy, licked up the milk, not Bob the boy.

In a few days Bob had finished the kennel for his new little pet, and
Don had just as nice a home as he had at first. Only it was quite
different. He had no brothers and sisters to play with, and at first
he was a little lonesome. He also missed the mamma dog, but so many
things happened to Don, and he saw so many new and strange sights that,
after a little while, he forgot all about his first home.

Every day, and sometimes two and three times a day, Bob would come out
to see Don, and would bring his pet some nice things to eat. Then Bob
would take him for a little walk.

Don’s new home was on a farm, and there were many new animals for him
to watch. Some of them he did not know the names of, but he soon got
so he could tell a cow from a horse, even though each of them had four
legs and a tail. But a cow had horns, and a horse did not.

Every day Don was learning something new. He was growing to be a large
puppy now, and he could run fast, and not tumble down as he had done
at first. He had strong, sharp teeth, too, though he did not want to
bite any one. He kept his teeth for gnawing on bones, and chewing puppy
cakes, which were hard――almost as hard to eat as ginger snaps are for
you.

Bob took Don with him to many places on the farm, and also out into the
woods. But Don kept close to his new master, so as not to get lost.

“Though if I did get lost I think I could find my way home again,”
thought Don. “I could easily sniff and smell my way back, I am sure.”

One day when Don was asleep in the nice, soft straw of his new kennel
which Bob had made for him, the little puppy dog was suddenly awakened
by hearing a loud noise. It sounded like:

“What are you going to do?”

Don jumped up and opened his eyes.

“What am I going to do?” he asked. “Who is it wants to know? Who are
you? What’s the matter?”

Then he heard the voice again, only, this time, it seemed to say:

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

With that, a long neck, covered with feathers, was thrust inside the
kennel, and something sharp pricked Don on his little black nose.

“Hi there!” he barked. “Please stop that. You’re not a kitten or a cat,
and you shouldn’t scratch me that way!”

“Cock-a-doodle-do!” went the funny animal again. “Of course I’m not a
kitten or a cat. I’m a rooster――the biggest rooster on the farm, and
I’m bigger even than you, no matter if you are a puppy. You are so nice
and soft that I like to put my bill in your ribs!”

“Oh, but I don’t like it!” barked Don, and he tried to get out of the
way, but the rooster kept sticking his long neck inside the kennel, and
pecking at Don.

The little puppy dog hardly knew what to do. If he ran out he was sure
the rooster would run after him. He had never seen a rooster before,
for all the chickens on the farm were kept in their own yard, far away
from the kennel.

Poor Don was not having a very good time. He howled and barked, and
tried to scare the rooster, but the big fowl only kept on crowing, and
saying:

“Cock-a-doodle-do!”

It sounded just as if he said:

“What you going to do?”

Poor Don could not do anything.

But Sallie, Bob’s sister, saw what was going on.

“Oh,” cried the little girl. “The big rooster has gotten out of his
coop, and he’s pecking Don. Bob won’t like that. I must drive that
rooster away.”

So the little girl ran up to the kennel, crying:

“Shoo! Shoo! Go away you bad rooster!”

Then the rooster was frightened. He flapped his wings, crowed again,
and away he flew, off to his coop behind the wire fence, where he
belonged.

“You poor little puppy you!” cried Sallie, as she tenderly picked Don
up in her arms. “Did the bad rooster bite you?”

“Wow! Eow! Yip! Yow!” said Don, softly. But he was all right, now that
the rooster had been driven away.

Don was not much hurt, for a puppy dog is so soft that a rooster’s bill
does not do much harm.

“But it was almost as bad as the time the cat scratched me,” thought
Don. “That’s two things I’ve got to be afraid of――cats and roosters.
But when I get to be a big dog I won’t be afraid of either one.”

When Bob came home from school his sister told him about the rooster
pecking the puppy dog.

“There must be a hole in the fence, where the rooster got out,” said
Bob. “I’ll mend it. Come on, Don, we’ll go fix the fence. Then the
rooster can’t get out again to bother you.”

“Bow-wow!” barked Don, for he was getting old enough now to bark almost
like a big dog. I guess he meant to say that he was not afraid of a
rooster, though, to tell the truth, I think he _was_, just a little bit.

“Come on, Don!” called Bob, and the dog followed his master.

On the way to the chicken coop they passed the pen where the pigs were
kept.

“I guess I’ll show you the pigs, Don,” said Bob. “You must get to know
them, so if any of them get out, any time, you can chase them, and make
them go back into their pen.”

Bob lifted Don up in his arms, and held him over the edge of the pig
pen. There was one big, mother pig, and seven little ones. One of the
little pigs had a funny, squinting eye. It was partly closed, and the
other eye was wide open, and when this little pig looked up at you,
with one ear lifted up, and the other drooping down, you felt as though
you wanted to laugh, he was so comical.

As Bob lifted his dog Don up to see the pigs, this one I have told you
about raised up on his hind legs and squealed.

“Hello, Squinty!” called the boy, for the pig was named Squinty, on
account of his squinting eye. “Hello, Squinty!” cried Bob. “I guess
you’d like to get out and dig in the garden, eh? Well, you can’t, so
you must stay in the pen.”

“Squee! Squee!” cried Squinty, the comical pig, about whom I have
told you in the book named after him. He had many adventures, did
Squinty――adventures with Slicko, the squirrel; with Mappo, the merry
monkey; and with Tum Tum, the jolly elephant.

“Squee! Squee!” grunted Squinty, looking at Don in that funny way.

“No, you can’t get out,” said Bob, laughing.

Then Squinty looked at Don.

“You look like a nice dog,” said the little pig. “Can’t you come and
let me out of the pen, some day when no one is looking? Do come! I’m
tired of staying in here. Wuff! Wuff!”

“Bow-wow!” barked Don, and that was how he got to know Squinty, the
comical pig.

“Will you come and bite a hole in the pen so I can get out?” asked
Squinty of Don.

“Bow wow! No, that would not be right,” Don said, for he and the little
pig could talk together in animal talk, which Bob, the boy, could not
understand. Bob thought his dog and the pig were just grunting and
squealing, and barking and whining. That goes to show you animals can
do things we cannot do.

“No, I can’t let you out,” said Don, as his master set him down, and
walked over toward the chicken coop, where the boy was going to fix the
fence so the big rooster could not get out again.

But, just before they got there, something happened. There was a loud
noise, and Bob’s sister Sallie screamed:

“Oh, Bob! The big black bull is loose! The big black bull has jumped
over the pasture fence! Oh, Bob!”

“Come on, Don!” cried Bob. “There’s some work for us!”




CHAPTER IV

DON SEES TUM TUM


Don hardly knew what to think when Bob, his boyish master, called to
him that way. The little dog had not lived long enough in the world to
know much about bulls jumping fences. But he could easily tell that
Bob’s sister, Sallie, was very much frightened. A dog can tell very
quickly when a person is frightened, or glad, or cross.

“Come on, Don!” cried Bob, as he ran as fast as he could.

“Where are you going?” asked Sallie. “Oh, Bob! Don’t you know the bad
black bull is loose?”

“Yes, of course I know it,” answered Bob. “And that’s where I’m going.”

“What! Not to the bull, are you?” asked Sallie.

“That’s just where I’m going,” said Bob.

“But he’ll hook you with his horns, and maybe――maybe he’ll step on
you!” exclaimed Sallie. “Listen to him call!”

From a field, not far away, came a noise that sounded like:

“Boo! Boo! Boo!”

“Bow wow!” barked Don.

“Yes, that’s the bull all right,” said Bob. “But we’ll drive him back
in the lot where he belongs, won’t we, Don, old fellow?”

“Bow wow!” barked Don again. I suppose he was saying: “Yes, yes! Of
course we will!”

Don knew nothing about bad black bulls, and Bob was not a very big boy.
Still he was brave, and so was Don.

“Come on, old fellow!” called Bob to the dog.

“Bow wow!” barked Don. “I’m coming!”

“Oh dear!” cried Sallie. She couldn’t help being just a little bit
afraid. Girls are made that way on purpose, so boys and dogs can
protect them.

“Boo! Boo!” bellowed the bull again, and Bob, running on ahead, with
Don coming after him, soon came to the field where the big animal, with
his sharp horns, was pawing up the dirt.

“Get back where you belong!” called Bob to the bull. “Get back, I say!”

“Bow wow!” barked Don, the brave dog. At first Don felt a little afraid
when he saw the big black animal.

But when Don saw how close his brave master Bob went to the bull, and
shook a stick at him, Don said to himself:

“Well, if Bob is brave, I must be brave too. It would never do to run
away and leave him to drive the bull all by himself. I must stay with
him.”

That is the way dogs nearly always do. They are very brave, and
faithful to their masters, staying by them when they are in danger or
when they are hurt. So Don did not run away.

Instead he ran close to the heels of the bull, and barked as loudly as
he could. It is a good thing Don did that, for the bull, with a shake
of his head, had just made up his mind to run at Bob and maybe stick
the boy with the sharp horns, for all I know. Mind, I am not saying for
sure, but maybe.

When Don barked so close to the bull’s legs, the big black animal
thought he was going to be bitten. So he turned quickly, to shake his
head and horns at Don, and in that way Bob was not hurt.

Bob was not the least bit afraid. He kept on shaking his stick at the
bull, and throwing stones and pieces of dirt at him, sometimes hitting
him on the nose. The bull did not like this.

And the big animal did not like Don barking at his heels, either. It
made the big, black animal think he was going to be bitten.

“Keep at it, Don!” cried Bob. “We’ll soon have this bull back where he
belongs! Drive him out of this field!”

[Illustration: He turned quickly to shake his head and horns at Don.]

“Bow wow!” barked Don, which meant, in dog language: “Of course we’ll
drive him back. I’m not afraid.”

So, with the barking of the dog, and the way Bob shook his stick and
threw stones, the bull began to feel that perhaps he had better be
good, and go back where he belonged.

The bull was still rather angry, and he kept shaking his head and his
horns, and pawing up the ground with his front feet. Still he backed
slowly out of the lot where he did not belong, and pretty soon along
came Bob’s father, with a big stick. Sallie, Bob’s sister, had gone to
call her father when she saw Bob and Don trying to keep the bull from
getting into the road.

“Get back there!” cried Bob’s father, and slowly the bull went back,
until he was safely locked in the pasture from which he had gotten out
by jumping the fence.

“Well, Bob,” said his father, “you are a brave little chap. Did you
drive back the black bull all alone?”

“Oh, no,” answered Bob. “Don helped me, didn’t you, Don?”

“Bow wow!” barked Don, as Bob put his arms around the shaggy neck of
his pet.

“Well, he certainly is a fine dog!” said the man, as he patted Don on
the head. And you can just imagine how proud Don was. For he was only
a puppy yet, and I think even a larger dog might have been a little
afraid to bark at the big, black bull. But Don started in by being
brave, and that is a good way to begin life.

“Yes, my dog is a good one,” said Bob. “We’re not afraid of bulls, are
we, Don?”

“Bow wow!” barked Don. “No indeed!”

“Well, I must make the fence higher so the bull can’t get out again,”
said the farmer.

Then he and Bob and Don went up to the farmhouse, Don wagging his tail
on the way, for that is what dogs do when they are pleased and happy.

Don was growing every day. He had good things to eat, he could run
about and play as he pleased, and he had a nice warm place to sleep.
All those things make puppies grow into big dogs. Of course some dogs
are little, and always stay that way, but Don was one of the kind that
grows to be large.

Bob, his master, was very fond of Don, and took him with him everywhere
he went――except to school, of course. A dog could not go to school any
more than could Mary’s little lamb. But often, when it was nearly time
for school to be out, Don would slip off down the road, toward the
little red schoolhouse.

Not far from it he would lie down in the shade of a tree to wait until
the boys and girls came out. Then Don would rush up, barking as loudly
as he could, and wagging his tail, for he wanted to see Bob. Don was
lonesome without him.

And what fun Bob and his boy chums had with Don on the way home from
school! Don would carry Bob’s books, and if any other boy, even in fun,
tried to take the books away from Don, the dog would growl and bark a
little, as though saying:

“Now that’s all very well, in fun. But you must not take these books.
If you do, I might have to bite you, just a least little bit, and I
wouldn’t like to do that. So please don’t touch Bob’s books.”

And none of the boys dared.

Bob taught Don how to lie down and roll over when he was told, and how
to sit up on his hind legs and not move even when a sweet cracker, or
something else good to eat, was put on the dog’s nose. Don would sit
there, just as steady as a clock, until Bob called out:

“Now you may eat it, Don!”

Then Don would flip his nose, toss the cracker up into the air, and as
it came down he would grab it in his white teeth and chew it up. Oh,
how good it tasted!

Bob also taught Don how to play soldier, and march around with a paper
cap on his head, and a broom for a gun. And Don could jump over
chairs, and do many other things, that only circus dogs are supposed to
do. Bob was very fond of his pet Don.

Sometimes, when Bob was off to school, Don would walk around the farm,
looking at the cows, horses and chickens. He was not afraid of the big
red rooster now, though once he had been, when he was a little puppy.
Instead the rooster was afraid of Don, though the dog would not harm
even a baby chicken. All Don did was to drive the chickens out of the
garden when he was told.

“How de doo――de doo!” the rooster would crow, when he saw Don outside
the chicken yard. “How de doo――de doo?”

“Oh, I’m pretty well, thank you,” Don would answer. “How are you? Bow
wow!”

Then they would talk together in rooster and dog language――that is,
after the rooster got over being afraid of Don.

Sometimes Don would go to see if the big, black bull was safely shut up
in his pasture lot. Don and the bull never got to be good friends. I
guess the bull was rather angry at Don for having driven him back that
time he got loose. On some days Don would go to the pen where Squinty,
the comical pig, lived with his mother and brothers and sisters. Don
could look through a crack in the boards and see the pigs.

“Oh, come now, I say, help me get a board off the pen and run out,”
Squinty would beg of Don.

“No indeed! I’m not going to let you out,” Don would answer.

“Then I’ll get out all by myself,” Squinty would say.

And one day he did. With his strong, rubbery nose Squinty pushed and
pushed on a loose board of his pen, until the board came off, and
Squinty was out in the garden. He had a good time, as I have told
you in the book about the comical little pig, so I will not put his
adventures in here. For this book is to be about Don, or, at least,
mostly about him.

Then the farmer found out that Squinty was loose.

“Here Don! Don!” called Bob’s father, for Bob was off to school.
“There’s a pig loose, Don! Drive him back to his pen!”

“Bow wow! I will!” cried Don, and he ran up to take Squinty by the ear
and lead him back. Don did not bite Squinty, though the comical little
pig squealed as though he were badly hurt. But Don took him safely back
to the pen.

Then, one day, Squinty got out again, and this time he wandered off
a long distance before Don was sent after him. When the dog did find
the little pig, Don saw a strange sight. Along the country road were
rumbling big red, green and golden colored wagons, drawn by many horses.

But, strangest of all, Don saw in the woods a little hairy animal, with
a long tail, and four hands――or so it seemed to Don. And then there was
another queer animal, with two tails, one in front, and one behind.

“Bow wow!” barked Don when he saw this animal. “I had better run away
from here. I don’t like this! Two tails! Oh my!”

“Oh, don’t be afraid,” said Squinty. “That’s only Tum Tum.”




CHAPTER V

DON RUNS AWAY


Don, who had been barking and growling to make Squinty, the comical
pig, go back to his pen, stopped suddenly, and grew very quiet when he
saw the funny, hairy, four-handed animal, and also the one that seemed
to have two tails. Don crouched down in the bushes to hide away, for,
though he had not been afraid of the big, black bull, this queer beast
was much larger, and so different.

“Don’t be afraid,” said Squinty, again. “That is only Tum Tum.”

“What do you mean――Tum Tum?” asked Don. “That sounds like the name of
a drum. And why shouldn’t I be afraid of an animal with two tails?
especially when he is so big,” asked Don.

“He hasn’t two tails,” grunted Squinty, the comical pig. “I thought the
same thing at first, until Mappo told me different.”

“Who is Mappo?” asked Don.

“Mappo is this chap――a merry monkey,” answered the little pig, as
he pointed with one paw toward the queer, furry, four-handed and
long-tailed animal.

“Oh, so your name is Mappo, is it?” asked Don, for he found that he
could talk to the other animals, as well as understand them.

“Yes, I am Mappo,” the monkey said. “But please don’t speak my name so
loudly.”

“Why not?” Don wanted to know.

“Because I have run away from a circus,” answered Mappo. And then Don
saw that what he had thought were hands were only paws, but they were
almost like hands, and the monkey’s tail was almost like a fifth hand
to him.

“Run away from a circus?” barked Don. “What’s a circus?”

“That’s it, out there,” Squinty said, as he nodded his head toward the
big red, green and golden wagons that were rumbling along the country
road. “Mappo and Tum Tum belong to the circus, but Mappo has run away,
just as I ran from the pen. Tum Tum is after him.”

“Who is Tum Tum?” asked Don again.

“He’s that big elephant,” answered Mappo, as he pointed toward the
creature.

“Oh ho!” barked Don, and he was not so frightened now. “So that is what
you call an animal with two tails; an elephant?”

“He hasn’t two tails, I tell you,” answered Squinty, with a pig-laugh.
“One is his tail――that’s the short one, and the other is his trunk.”

“It doesn’t look like a trunk,” said Don. “I know what a trunk is.
There are some in the attic of the house where I live, and Bob’s mother
keeps her clothes in them. I don’t see how Tum Tum could keep any
clothes in that trunk that hangs down from his mouth.”

“It isn’t that kind of a trunk,” said the big elephant with a deep,
jolly laugh. “My trunk is just a long nose, to breathe through, and
squirt water through, and I can curl it around and pick up things with
it.”

And to prove how easy it was he just picked up Mappo, the merry monkey,
in his trunk, Tum Tum did, and set him on his back.

“Oh ho! So that’s what a trunk is for!” exclaimed Don. “Well, I am glad
to know, and I am glad I met you, Mappo and Tum Tum. But now, Squinty,
you must come back to your pen with me.”

“I don’t want to go!” squealed the little pig.

“But you must come!” Don said. “I was sent after you and I am going to
take you home, even if I have to lead you all the way by the ear.”

“Yes, you had better go,” said Tum Tum. “I have been sent from the
circus to bring back Mappo, the merry monkey.”

“But I am not coming,” Mappo said. “I have run away, and I am not going
to run back again until after I have some fun.”

And if you want to read all the things the monkey and the elephant did,
you may do so in the special books about them, just as you may read
about Squinty, the comical pig.

One book is called, “Mappo, the Merry Monkey,” and the other “Tum Tum,
the Jolly Elephant.” I have not room in this book to set down all their
wonderful adventures.

“Aren’t you coming back with me?” asked Tum Tum of Mappo.

“No, I am going to run away some more,” Mappo chattered, in monkey
fashion, and off through the bushes he slipped, to have some fun.

“I am sorry about that,” said Tum Tum, the jolly elephant, as he
crashed through the underbrush. “I shall have to go back to the circus
without Mappo.”

“But I am not going back to the farm without you, Squinty,” said Don,
the dog, and with that he took hold of the comical little pig, and led
him through the woods to his pen.

“The monkey and the elephant can do as they like,” said Don, “but my
master told me to fetch back any runaway pigs I saw, and I am going to
do it.”

“I don’t like you,” said Squinty, rather crossly to Don, as they went
along through the woods.

“Well, I am sorry about that,” barked Don, “for I do not mean to be
unkind to you. Still I must take you back where you belong.”

“And just when I was having such fun, running away!” went on Squinty,
disappointed.

“It isn’t any fun to run away,” spoke Don, as he took hold of Squinty’s
ear in a new place, so as not to hurt the comical little pig with the
queer, squinty eye.

“Oh, isn’t it?” squealed Squinty. “That’s because you never tried
it――you don’t know. Now if you were to run away once, you’d have so
much fun you’d like it, I’m sure.”

“Did you have any fun when you ran away?” asked Don.

“Lots of fun,” answered Squinty. “That is, I did have until you came
along and spoiled it all.”

“Well, I’m sorry I spoiled it, but I had to bring you home,” spoke Don.
“You belong at the farm you know――not in a circus with monkeys and
elephants.”

“But it’s lots of fun in a circus,” went on Squinty. “I say, Don,” he
went on eagerly, “let’s run away together and join the circus. We could
learn to do tricks, and have lots of fun. Come on!”

“No indeed!” growled Don. “I’m not going to run away.”

“But think of the fun you’d have,” Squinty went on. “At the farm
nothing ever happens.”

“There doesn’t, eh?” asked Don. “I suppose you call the bad, black bull
breaking out of his pasture, and Bob and me driving him back――I suppose
you call that nothing!”

“Oh, well, that, of course,” admitted Squinty.

“And then running after you――is that nothing?” Don wanted to know.

“Well, I wish _that_ hadn’t happened,” Squinty said. “But I mean lots
more happens if you run away than if you stay at home. Just think!
Everything is the same every day when you’re on the farm. You get your
meals just so often, and you always have to come when Bob calls you.”

“Yes, but I like that, for I love my little master Bob,” said Don. “And
I like my three meals a day.”

“But if you ran away you could eat as often as you pleased,” said
Squinty.

“Do you really think so?” asked Don, doubtfully.

“I’m sure of it,” Squinty said.

“Well,” spoke Don, “I never thought of that. Maybe there is something
in this running away after all.”

And, for the first time since he had come to live with Bob on the farm,
Don began to think of running away. He had never thought of such a
thing before, and he wouldn’t have done so then, only Squinty put it
into his head, you see.

Don kept hold of Squinty’s ear all the way back to the farm and led the
comical little pig right up to the pen from which he had broken out.

“There you are!” growled Don, but his voice was quite friendly.

“Yes, here I am, back again,” sighed Squinty, sorrowfully. “I wish you
had let me run farther away.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t think of it,” barked Don.

“Never mind. Maybe some day you’ll run away yourself,” went on Squinty,
“and then you’ll be sorry if some one makes you come back home.”

“No, I never will,” Don said.

The farmer, who owned the pigs, came running out of the barn.

“Well, I declare!” he cried. “If Don hasn’t brought back that rascal
Squinty, who ran away! Good dog, Don!”

Then Don felt very proud and happy, and wagged his tail so hard that it
is a wonder it did not fall off. But then a dog’s tail is made quite
tightly fast to him, you see, so it cannot wag off.

“No,” said Don, as he went to his kennel to dig up a nice, juicy bone
he had buried near it, “no, I’ll never run away――never!”

But you just wait and see what Don did.

For several days after he had brought back Squinty, the comical pig,
nothing much happened to Don. He played about with Bob, his little
master, chased the chickens out of the garden, and did some of his
tricks. One day Tabby, the cat, came out to talk to him.

Don and Tabby were good friends. The dog had always been kind to cats,
since his mother had told him to be, and Tabby was not afraid of Don,
though she would fluff up her tail, and round up her back, when she saw
some dogs that were not friends of hers.

“Don’t you ever get tired of staying here all the while, Don?” asked
Tabby, as she sat in the sunshine, washing her face with her velvety
paw. Dogs and cats can talk to each other you know, though we cannot
understand them.

“Why, no, I don’t know as I get tired,” Don answered. “What makes you
ask that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” meowed Tabby. “Sometimes I feel as if I should like
to run away, and see how the world looks away from this farm. I have
been here all my life.”

“So have I――nearly,” Don went on. “But I like it here.”

Still, what Tabby had said to him, and what Squinty, the comical pig,
had said to him, stayed in Don’s mind. As the days passed, and the
warm, beautiful summer weather came, Don said:

“I wonder how it would seem to run away? I’ve a good notion to try it,
just once. Then I could come back, and tell Tabby and Squinty and the
other farm animals that there is really no fun in running away. That
would make them contented, and they would be glad to stay here.

“Yes, I think I’ll run away, but only just to tell the others how it
seems, so they won’t want to do it. In that way I would be doing Bob
and his father a favor. Yes, I shall run away.”

So Don ran away, and then began some wonderful adventures for him.




CHAPTER VI

DON IS LOCKED IN


When Don made up his mind to run away from the farm, he chose a time to
do it when Bob would be away at school. For the dog well knew that if
Bob were at home there would be little chance of getting away without
being seen.

Bob always wanted Don with him, and, as soon as the boy came home from
his lessons, the first thing he would do would be to run out to the
kennel to see how Don was.

“Yes,” thought Don to himself, in a way dogs have of thinking, that we
know nothing about, “yes, if I am to run away I must go when Bob is not
at home. Otherwise he might stop me.

“But I won’t run away very far,” thought Don, “and I’ll soon run back
again, to tell these silly farm animals that they are much better off
stopping safely at home.”

That is what Don thought, but things do not always happen the way we
think, or even the way dogs think.

Don walked out of his kennel, after he had had a good dinner, looked
carefully about to see that no one saw him, and off down the road he
trotted.

“I suppose I ought to say good-by to Bob,” thought Don, “but then he
doesn’t always understand my way of talking. Besides, if I said good-by
to him he’d know I was going away, and he’d stop me. So I guess I won’t
wait.”

Don trotted off, past the farmhouse, down the country road. Tabby, the
big yellow cat, was sunning herself on the porch as Don went past.

“Where are you going?” asked Tabby, stretching out her paws.

“Oh, just to take a walk,” answered Don. For he did not want Tabby to
follow him, and, after all, he was _walking_ away, rather than running
away――at least, at first.

“I don’t want any cats chasing after me,” thought Don. “No one takes
any one with him when he runs away――at least Squinty didn’t, and he
ought to know all about running away, for he’s done it twice. No, I’ll
go alone.”

Off Don went.

At first it was very pleasant, trotting along the road, in the shade.
Now and then Don would stop to get a drink at a wayside spring. Or he
might see a flock of birds, and he would chase after them, with his red
tongue hanging out of his mouth. Don did not want to catch the birds,
but he just wanted something to run after, and birds were as good as
anything else.

After a while Don met another dog, named Rover, who lived on the next
farm.

“Hello!” exclaimed Rover, speaking in dog language of course, and
wagging his tail. “Glad to see you, Don. Where you going?”

“Oh, no place, special,” answered Don. He was wondering whether he
might not tell Rover about running away, and ask the other dog to come
with him.

“A dog to run away with would be all right,” thought Don, “but not a
cat. I guess I’ll ask Rover.”

So Don said:

“To tell you the truth, Rover, I don’t know just where I am going. I am
running away, to see the world, and have some adventures, and perhaps
you’d like to come with me.”

“What! Running away?” cried Rover. “Not for me! I’m going to stay home!”

“But think of the adventures we’ll have,” said Don. “Come on!”

“No, thank you,” answered Rover. “Once I ran away, and I was glad
enough to run back again. You will be, too.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Don. “Besides, so many of the animals on
our farm are talking of running away, that I thought if I went, and
came back to tell them all about it, they wouldn’t want to run any
more.”

“Well, perhaps they won’t,” said Rover. “But I’m sure you’ll be glad to
get back.”

“No, I will not!” cried Don, and then he ran quickly and hid behind a
lilac bush.

“What’s the matter?” asked Rover, in a barking whisper.

“Hush!” growled Don. “It’s your master. I don’t want him to see me
here, for when Bob finds I am gone he will hunt for me, and your master
may tell him I was here.”

“All right. Hide,” said Rover. “I won’t tell where you are. But, mind
what I’m telling you. Very glad indeed you’ll be to get back home
again!”

Don did not think so, and, after Rover’s master had passed on, the
runaway dog came out of his hiding place in the bushes, and, saying
good-by to the other dog, off Don went again, down the road.

“Well, I am certainly having a good time,” thought Don. “Squinty was
right about it; there’s lots of fun in running away. No wonder he
didn’t want to run back again.”

On and on trotted Don, stopping now and then to speak to other dogs he
knew, and sometimes resting in the shade near a spring of water. Then
off he would go again.

“Well,” thought Don, after a bit, “I am beginning to feel hungry. Let
me see. What do you do when you get hungry if you are running away? I
meant to ask Squinty about that, but I forgot it. I guess I can find
something to eat.”

This was not as easy as Don had thought it would be. It was quite
different from having Bob, or Bob’s mother or sister, bring out a nice
plate of table scraps or a juicy bone. No one brought Don anything now,
for he was a runaway dog.

“Never mind,” said Don to himself, in a way dogs have, “I guess I can
go up to the back door of one of these houses, and pick up a bone or
two. I’ll try it.”

Just then he was passing a large white house, that looked something
like the one where his kennel was.

“There’s sure to be plenty to eat in a place like that,” thought Don.

Around to the back door he trotted, and, surely enough, he saw on the
ground some bones with bits of meat on them. Don felt more hungry than
ever when he saw them.

“Ah ha!” he whispered to himself, as he licked his teeth with his red
tongue, “now for a fine dinner! Why this is as good as I would get at
home. Who says running away isn’t jolly?”

But, just as Don was going to pick up the nicest bone, a harsh voice
called to him:

“Here! Get out of there! Be off!” and a stone was thrown at Don,
hitting him on the leg.

“Ouch!” he yelped. “Ouch! Bow wow!”

“Get away from there! Get out of this yard!” the harsh voice went on,
and when a window was raised, Don saw a big, fat cook-woman, with a pan
of water in her hand. She was just going to throw it on Don, but he ran
out of the way in time.

“My! How impolite!” thought Don. “I never heard of such treatment! Just
as if it would hurt anything if I took those bones nobody wants! The
idea!”

Don felt quite badly as he ran away. No one had ever treated him that
way before――not even when he was a little puppy, and he was now a big
dog.

“Well, I’ll try another house,” thought Don, as he trotted on. “Maybe
they will be kinder there. Anyhow I’m glad I ran before that fat woman
had time to throw water on me. I wonder if it was hot water?”

Don trotted along, getting hungrier and hungrier every minute, until he
saw another house. This one was painted red, but it was quite as large
as the white one.

“Now to see if I can find a bone in this back yard,” Don thought, as
he ran in. He saw a tin can in one corner of the yard, and from the can
came a nice smell of bones.

“Ah ha!” thought Don. “Something to eat there, I’m sure.”

He went up to the can, and was just lifting the cover off with his paw,
to get at the bone inside, when another harsh voice called to him:

“Be off out of there! I believe you’re the dog who rolled in my
pansy-flower bed the other day. Get away from here! I don’t like dogs!”

Don looked up in time to see the gardener flinging a stone at him, and
Don dodged out of the way, so as not to be hit.

“Be off!” cried the man.

Poor Don tucked his tail between his legs and ran out of the yard. A
stone once more came bounding after him, and almost hit him.

“Well, well!” thought the runaway dog. “This is certainly a hard life!
I’ve been cheated out of my dinner twice. And no one wanted those
bones, either. I don’t see why I couldn’t have had them!”

Don was beginning to find out that it was not so much fun running away
as he had thought it would be. And he was getting so hungry!

On and on he ran, for some distance. Pretty soon he saw another large,
fine house.

“Rich people must live in there,” he thought, “but twice, now, I have
been driven away from big houses. I think I’ll try a smaller one.”

So he went on and on until he came to a little house, where a poor old
lady lived.

Don sniffed and smelled about, looking for a bone. But he could find
none in this yard. However, the lady, looking out of her kitchen
window, saw the dog, and she knew he must be hungry. Then Don saw a bit
of bread lying on the ground. The lady had fed the birds that morning,
and part of the bread was left.

“I’ll get that, anyhow!” thought Don, and he swallowed it very quickly.

“Poor dog! I believe you’re hungry!” said the lady, kindly.

“Ha! I _know_ I’m hungry,” said Don to himself, for of course he could
not speak to the lady in her language.

“I’ll give you a bone,” she said, and she threw something out of the
window at Don. At first the runaway dog thought it was another stone,
but as soon as he smelled the bone he knew better.

“But I’m not going to run any chances,” Don thought. So, with a bark of
thanks to the kind lady, Don caught the bone in his teeth, and out he
ran with it into the street. And no sooner had he gotten there, than
another dog, bigger than Don, saw him.

“Hold on!” cried the other dog. “Give me that bone! It’s mine!”

“I beg your pardon,” spoke Don, politely, for he had been brought up
that way, “but this is my bone――a lady gave it to me.”

“No it isn’t! It’s mine!” growled the other dog, and he began to run
after Don. But Don was not going to lose the bone the kind lady had
given him, so away he ran as fast as he could go, with the other dog
following after, like Jack and Jill falling down hill, you know.

“Stop! Stop! Give me that bone!” cried the bad dog.

“No! No!” answered Don.

Though the other dog was larger and stronger than Don, he could not run
as fast, and Don was soon out of sight around the corner, trotting as
fast as he could go, with the bone in his mouth.

“Well, so far so good,” thought Don. “I never imagined before that it
was so hard and dangerous to get anything to eat. It isn’t this way on
the farm. Still I am running away――that is something, and I suppose
these are only adventures.”

Soon Don came to a quiet, shady place, near where a street-fountain of
water bubbled up.

[Illustration: Other dogs, coming to the fountain to get a drink,
wanted to take Don’s bone away from him.]

“I’ll lie down here and eat my bone,” thought Don. But it was not as
easy to do as he thought. As soon as he began to gnaw the meat off the
bone, other dogs, coming to the fountain to get a drink, wanted to take
Don’s bone away from him. At last Don said:

“Well, I’ll have no peace or quietness here. I’ll find another place.”
Picking up his bone, he ran on until he came to a railroad station. Don
knew what this was, for the railroad ran not far from the farm, and Don
had often gone to the depot with Bob to see the trains go by.

Don saw a big brown freight car, with the door open, standing on the
track.

“I’ll get in there and eat my bone,” thought Don, and with one jump, up
into the car he leaped. There no other dogs bothered him as he gnawed
the juicy bone, and then, after this little lunch, Don fell asleep.

How long he slept he did not know, but when he awoke he found himself
in the dark, and the car was rumbling along over the track.

“Oh, the train must have started!” thought Don. “I must get out.” But,
when he tried, he found the door of the freight car was tightly shut.
Poor Don was locked in.




CHAPTER VII

DON IN THE CITY


Poor Don did not know what to do. There he was, shut tightly up in a
dark freight car, that was rumbling over the rails as fast as it could
go.

“Well,” thought Don, in a way dogs have of thinking, “I am in a fix
now. I had much better have stopped at home. Running away isn’t as much
fun as I thought it was.”

He looked about the car, but he could see no way to get out. There were
some boxes and barrels in one corner, but as Don went up to sniff and
smell of them he could tell they had in them nothing good to eat.

My! What a rumbling the train made as it puffed along.

“I wonder where I am being taken to?” thought Don. “I guess I am in for
an adventure. Well, I’ll make the best of it.”

Once more Don went over to the door, and tried to push it open with his
nose. But it was not a swinging door like the one in the house at home.
Instead, it slid back and forth. What had happened was this:

When Don was asleep, after having eaten the bone the good lady gave
him, a train-man had come along, and closed the door of the freight
car. He did not see Don sleeping inside there to keep out of the way of
other dogs, or, if he had, the brakeman might have called to Don to get
out, before the door was locked. But, as it was, Don was locked in. And
now he was being taken away――where, he could not tell.

Don was beginning to feel hungry again, and, worse than this, he was
thirsty. He could stand being hungry, for he had had a bone, only a
little while before. But oh! how thirsty he was. And there was not a
drop of water in the car.

Poor Don put out his tongue, and licked his dry lips. There is not
anything quite so bad for an animal as to be thirsty, and if ever you
have a dog or cat, I hope you will see to it that they can always get
clean, fresh water to drink, especially in hot weather.

Poor Don’s tongue hung out of his mouth, and his breath came fast.

Up and down the freight car ran Don, looking for water in every corner,
but there was none. Then he thought to himself:

“I’ll bark and howl. That will let the men know I want a drink, and
they’ll bring me some water. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll bark and howl. I
ought to have thought of that before.”

So Don sat down in the middle of the car, on his hind legs, and,
lifting up his head, he howled. Then he barked, doing both as loudly as
he could.

But the train made such a rumbling noise, and the engine whistled so
loudly, that Don’s howls and barks could not be heard.

But he kept on howling and barking, until his poor throat and tongue
were tired, and he was thirstier than ever.

“I guess I’ll have to stop,” thought Don. “This isn’t doing any good,
and it only makes me feel worse than ever. Oh, if I could only get out!”

Then poor Don, tired out and weary, lay down and tried to sleep.

But it was hard work even to sleep in the rumbling car, though at last
Don dozed off for a little while. Then he suddenly awakened, and as he
sat up he knew what had made him stop sleeping. It was the sudden quiet
that had come after all the noise.

The train had come to a stop. It no longer rumbled over the rails, and
the car did not sway from side to side.

“Oh, maybe I can get out now!” thought Don, jumping up. Once more he
barked and howled, but he could not do it so loudly now, or he was so
thirsty his throat seemed all swelled shut.

Finally, after giving a pitiful howl, Don heard the voices of men
outside the freight car. And Don knew enough of men’s talk to hear one
of them ask:

“Don’t you hear a dog somewhere?”

“Seems to me I do,” answered another voice. “I wonder where it can be?”

“I’ll soon show them where it is,” thought Don. “I’ll howl again for
them.”

Once more he howled and barked.

“Why the dog is in this freight car!” exclaimed the first man.

“So he is!” cried the second. “We’ll let him out. We don’t want to be
carrying a dog with us.”

In a little while the door of the freight car slid open, and as soon as
Don saw the first streak of daylight come in, he gave a yelp of delight.

“Now I can get out and get a drink!” he thought.

So, without stopping to say anything to the men for letting him out,
except to give a short bark, which meant “Thank you!” Don jumped to the
ground and ran as fast as he could. He did not care which way he went,
as long as he could find some water.

“Look at that dog run!” cried one of the men.

“Yes, I guess he is badly scared,” said the other.

Don was not so much frightened as he was thirsty; he was a brave dog.
As he ran along, trying to smell his way to the nearest water, he
thought:

“Oh, if ever I get safely back to my kennel once more, I’ll never run
away again. That other dog, Rover, was right――it’s no fun to run away.”

Then, all of a sudden, Don smelled water. He looked in the direction
from which the smell came, and he saw a big stream of water splashing
down into the engine that had drawn the train of freight cars. For the
engine has to have water, just as a dog does, only the engine makes
steam of it. And it was the engine taking water at a big tank that Don
saw.

Some of the water splashed down from the engine tank and made a little
puddle beside the track. Don trotted up to this puddle and took a long
drink. And oh! how good it tasted.

“Humph! That dog was thirsty all right,” said the engineer as he leaned
out of his cab window and watched his engine getting a drink too. “I
wonder where that dog came from?”

“I came from a freight car――that’s where I came from,” said Don, but
of course he spoke only to himself, sort of thinking like, and the
engineer did not hear anything.

Don took another drink of the cool water, and he did not mind if it
was a bit muddy. At home, in his kennel, Bob the boy, would never think
of giving his pet dog anything but clean water to drink.

“But it’s different, when you run away,” thought Don. “Then you have to
take what you can get.”

He felt much better, now that he had quenched his thirst. But he was
beginning to feel hungry.

“The bone I left in the car is no good, for there is no more meat on
it,” thought Don. “I shall have to look for a new one.”

Then, for the first time since he had come out of the freight car, Don
looked about him, to see where he was. He saw many trains, and railroad
tracks, and, off in the distance a number of houses and church spires
as well as factory chimneys.

“I must be in some city,” thought Don. And he was right. The freight
train had stopped outside a large city, where Don was going to have
many adventures. Only, of course, he did not know that just now.

Poor Don was very tired, quite hungry and very dirty, for the floor of
the freight car had no clean straw on it as had the dog kennel at the
farm. In fact Don did not look like a nice dog at all. But he did not
know this, for he had no looking glass to tell him. I very much doubt
if dogs use mirrors,――don’t you? Anyhow, Don did not feel like himself.
He was beginning to be more and more sorry every minute that he had run
away.

“But, as long as I have, I must make the best of it,” thought Don. “And
the first thing to do is to get something to eat.”

He trotted over the railroad tracks, and soon found himself running
along the streets of a big city. He had never been in such a large one
before, though once he had gone to a small one, not far from the farm,
with Bob and the farmer. But this was a very big city, and Don had not
a friend in it. He sniffed and smelled, as he ran along, trying to find
something to eat. At last he smelled meat, and oh! how hungry it made
him. He ran toward the smell, but, just as he turned the corner near
it, he heard a voice cry:

“Oh, look at that dog! Let’s throw a stone at him!”




CHAPTER VIII

DON AND THE CAN


Don looked around quickly to see who had spoken. He saw two boys
standing at the corner, near where that good smell of meat came from,
for which Don was so hungry. One of the boys had stooped to pick up a
stone.

“Come on, Bill,” said this boy. “Get yourself a stone and we’ll see who
of us can hit that dog first.”

“Oh, I don’t want to,” answered the other boy. “What’s the good of
hitting him?”

“To make him run. Come on.”

“No, I don’t want to. What’s the use of hurting a dog? I like dogs. I
wonder if I could take that one home with me?”

Don had two kinds of feelings just then. One was sort of an angry
feeling at the boy who wanted to throw a stone at him, and the other
feeling was a kind, glad one, toward the other boy.

“That boy looks something like my little master, Bob,” thought Don.
“I’d like to go to him, for I think he would give me something to eat.
And oh! how hungry I am.”

Don wagged his tail. This was for the good boy. Then Don growled, the
least little bit. That was for the bad boy. It was as if Don had said
to the good boy:

“I like you. I want to be friends with you. You and I can have good
times together.”

And when Don growled, it was as though he had said to the bad boy:

“Come now! None of that――no throwing of stones. That isn’t nice. I
can’t be friends with you if you throw stones at me.”

Of course neither of the boys understood Don’s kind of talk. The dog
was just going to go closer to the boy who did not want to throw a
stone at him, when, all of a sudden the “bad” boy, as I call him, threw
the piece of rock, and it hit Don on the leg.

“Wow! Ouch! Yelp!” cried poor Don, as he limped away.

“Ha! Ha!” laughed the boy who had thrown the stone. “Look at him go! I
knew I could make him run!”

“Aw, what’d you want to go and do that for?” asked the other boy,
quickly. “Now I can’t get him.”

“Well, he wasn’t much good,” spoke the boy who had thrown the stone.
“Let him go.”

“Guess I’ll have to,” said the good boy. “But I wish you hadn’t hit
him.”

“So do I,” thought Don, who heard this talk as he limped away. “I don’t
see why he wanted to throw a stone at me.”

And I do not see why myself, except that some boys do things without
thinking. I do not believe boys ever want really to be cruel and mean,
as they are when they stone dogs and cats. It is just that they do not
think.

Don ran on, and, after a while, his leg, that had been hit by the
stone, did not hurt him so much. His feeling of hunger, which had gone
away for a little while, after he was hit, came back again worse than
before.

“I _must_ find something to eat,” thought Don. “I’ll get so weak that
I’ll fall down in the street, if I don’t eat.”

So, with his nose, he sniffed and snuffed until, once more, he caught
the smell of meat. Of course dogs can look for food, but their noses
are sharper than their eyes, and they can smell something good to eat
long before they can see it.

Other animals do, too. You just watch your cat some time. She may see a
wagon coming down the street, but she does not pay any attention to it
because it is only a wagon from the drygoods store.

Then another wagon comes down the street. It looks almost like the one
from the drygoods store, but as soon as pussy sees that, she meows, and
runs to meet it. For this is the fish wagon, and she can smell the fish
in it before you can. Cats like fish.

It was that way with Don. And once more he smelled meat. This time he
followed the smell to a can that stood on the edge of the gutter. It
was an ash can, but in it was a piece of meat.

Don reached in, and grabbed it out as quickly as he could, running
around the corner, for he had not forgotten the time a stone was thrown
at him when he took a bone from a yard.

The meat was not as clean and as nice as Don would have gotten at his
kennel at the farm, but he was so hungry that he did not stop to think
of that. He ate the meat up at once.

“My, that tasted good!” said Don to himself. “I wish I could find
another piece like that. And to think I wouldn’t look twice at such a
piece of meat at home. Well, running away is certainly a strange life!
I’ll never do it again, and I’m going to run home as soon as I can.”

It was easier to say this than to do it. Don was far, far from the nice
farm, and he did not even know which way to start to get back there.

My! what a noisy place the city was. Trolley cars and automobiles raced
through the streets, and there were many horses and wagons. And so
many persons were hurrying here, there and everywhere.

Poor Don was very lonesome. He finished the last scrap of meat he had
pulled out of the ash can, and walked on. He did not know where he was
going, or what to do, but every one in the city seemed to keep moving,
so Don did the same.

Don came to a street where there were many wagons, cars and automobiles.
On the other side of the street he saw a butcher shop, with nice meat
hanging in the window.

“Now,” thought Don, “if I could only get over there I might get a nice
bone, or a scrap of clean meat. Guess I’ll try it.”

He watched his chance, for he was afraid of being run over, there were
so many wagons and autos in the street. At last Don thought he saw an
opening, and he darted forward.

But Don was not used to city ways. No sooner was he half way across the
street than it seemed as if a dozen cars were rushing down on him. A
policeman shouted at him, and blew a whistle.

“Get out of there, dog!” cried the policeman.

Don started to run back, but, as he did so two automobiles came past,
with tooting horns, and he was afraid of them.

“Go on! Go on!” cried the policeman. So Don kept on across the street.
He was almost at the other curb, when another auto came along so
swiftly that one of the wheels hit Don, and knocked him down. But the
man steering the automobile turned it out of the way just in time, and
Don was saved. He scrambled to the sidewalk, his heart beating very
fast.

“Well, well! That was a narrow escape you had!” said a voice in his
ear, and, looking up, Don saw another dog. This dog was what we should
call a “tramp” dog. But he spoke kindly to Don.

“You came near being run over,” said this dog, wagging his tail.

“Yes, I guess I did,” agreed Don.

“What’s your name, and where do you live?” asked the tramp dog, wagging
his tail some more, to show that he was friendly.

“My name is Don,” said Bob’s pet, “and I did live on a farm. But I ran
away, to have some adventures, and――”

“Well, if you’ll take my advice you’ll run back to that farm as fast
as you can,” said the tramp dog. “I lived on one once, and it is much
nicer, for dogs, than the city. You’d better go back.”

“I would, if I could, but I can’t find my way,” sorrowfully said Don,
and he told of having been locked in a freight car.

[Illustration: “Get out of there, dog!” cried the policeman.]

“My! You certainly have had some adventures,” said the city dog, who
had mentioned that his name was Jack. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“Yes, I found a piece of meat in a can,” answered Don. “But it was not
very good. It was covered with ashes, and――”

“Well, you were lucky to get that,” said Jack. “I haven’t had a thing
to-day, and I’m almost starved. You’ll be very glad to get even scraps
from ash cans if you stay in the city long, let me tell you――very lucky
indeed. I wish I could find some now.”

“I’ll show you where the can is,” offered Don, kindly. “But I don’t
think there is any more meat in it.”

“Hardly,” agreed Jack. “There are too many dogs about to eat it.”

“There’s lots of meat in there,” said Don, looking at the butcher shop.
“Maybe they’ll give us some.”

“Not much they won’t!” cried Jack. “All the meat we’ll get there
wouldn’t keep a kitten from starving. We’ll have to hunt our own. But
come along. Maybe I’ll have some luck, now I’ve met you. Have you any
place to sleep to-night?”

“No. But at home, on the farm, I had a nice kennel, filled with soft
straw,” said Don.

“You’ll find nothing like that here,” said Jack. “Such things are only
for rich dogs, with homes. But never mind. I have a good sleeping place
under some boards in a lumber yard. I’ll take you there to-night, and
we’ll sleep together.”

“That is very good of you,” said Don. “And if I find anything to eat,
I’ll give you half.”

The two dogs looked longingly at the meat in the butcher shop. In the
window sat a fat cat, and it seemed as though she blinked her eyes at
the dogs. She was not afraid of them.

“Just think of it!” cried Jack. “That cat has all the meat she wants,
and we have to be glad of even scraps from an ash can.”

“Well, it serves me right for running away,” thought Don to himself.

He and Jack managed to find a little meat that day, but it was not
much. They drank from a mud puddle, and were glad enough to do so.
Then, worn out, tired and dusty, that night Jack and Don went to the
lumber yard to sleep.

“Haven’t you any cushions, or anything like that?” asked Don, as he saw
a space under some bare boards, which Jack said was the bed.

“Nothing like that,” said Jack, with a bark. “I’m glad enough to have a
sheltered place, without cushions.”

Poor Don was so tired that he fell asleep almost at once. And he
dreamed that he was back in his kennel at the farm, lying in the warm
straw, and that in front of him was a big bowl of milk and a plate of
juicy bones.

Dogs and cats, as well as other animals, do dream, I believe. If you
ever watch sleeping cats or dogs, you will often see them jump or
twitch, when their eyes are closed. And sometimes they will whine or
howl, just as children talk in their sleep. Of course no one knows
what dogs and cats dream about, but I imagine it must often be of good
things to eat, don’t you?

At any rate Don dreamed of being back home, but when he suddenly
awakened he remembered where he was.

“Oh, I’m under the lumber pile,” Don thought to himself. “And I’ll have
to go hunting in ash cans for something to eat. Oh, I wish I were back
home again! No more running away for me!”

Then Don began to feel something queer on his tail. It was as though it
were being pinched. He looked up, thinking perhaps Jack was doing this
to awaken him. But Jack was not to be seen. And then Don saw something
else.

Tied around his tail was a piece of rope that had not been there when
he went to sleep the night before.

Don jumped up quickly, and, as he did so, he heard a rattling sound. At
the same time a boy’s voice cried:

“Hey, Jimmie! The dog’s woke up! Now we’ll see some fun!”

Don sprang out from under the pile of boards. As he did so, the
rattlety-bang sound followed him. It went wherever he went and, as he
looked around, he saw that a big tin can was tied to his tail. Don did
not know what to make of it. Nothing like that had ever happened to him
before. He gave a jump, and ran around the lumber yard. At every step
the can followed, with a rattle and bang.

“Oh, this is terrible!” yelped poor Don, as he ran faster and faster.
But, no matter how fast he ran, the can on his tail followed.




CHAPTER IX

DON AND THE DOG CATCHER


“Look at him run!” cried one of the boys who had tied the tin can on
Don’s tail, when the dog was asleep. “Look!”

“He certainly can go!” shouted the other boy. “Let’s see if we can’t
catch him!”

But Don was running too fast for any small boy to get hold of him,
and those boys were not very large. Don was running as he had never
run before, because he was so frightened. Never before had he had a
can tied to his tail, and it bumped along after him, making such a
noise, and the rope pinched him so that, altogether, Don was very much
frightened.

But it was only “fun” for the boys. They laughed and shouted to see Don
try to get rid of the tin can.

For, after the first few minutes, Don did try to get rid of that
bouncing, rattlety-bang thing that seemed to follow him so closely. The
dog sat down, and, turning around, tried to pull the rope off his tail
by his teeth. But the boys had tied it on too tightly to allow Don to
get rid of it easily.

“Come on! Now we can catch him!” cried one of the boys, as he saw Don
sitting down near a pile of shingles.

The two boys went softly up toward the dog. I do not know what they
would have done with him if they had caught him, but they did not get
their hands on Don.

He stopped gnawing at the rope long enough to look up, and he saw the
boys. With a yelp, a growl and whine, all together, Don sprang up and
ran on again.

“There he goes!” cried one of the boys.

“Yes. Head him off! You go one way, and I’ll go the other,” shouted the
second boy. “Then we’ll get him, sure.”

“Oh, what a lot of trouble I’m having!” thought poor Don. “How I wish
I were back on the farm! And I wish Jack, that shaggy dog, was here to
help me. I wonder where he went to?”

But Jack was far away, and Don had to fight his battle alone. Finally,
as he was running around with the can on his tail, Don saw a little
hole in the pile of lumber.

“If I can only crawl in there,” he said, “I’ll hide from those boys.
They can’t get at me in there.”

Don made a dive for the hole. It was just large enough to let him crawl
in. He hoped the tin can might catch on something and be pulled off
his tail. But it did not. Inside his hiding place the can followed poor
Don.

“Never mind,” thought the tired and panting dog, “if the can had caught
on something, and if I pulled too hard, I might pull my tail off also,
and that would be too bad.” And of course it would. You know that, as
well as I do, without me telling you.

“But maybe when Jack comes back, and these boys go away, I’ll be able
to get rid of this old tin can,” thought Don. “Maybe Jack can help me
gnaw it off.”

So Don crept farther back into the hole, under the lumber and the boys
could not get at him. They tried to, but they could not. They even
poked sticks in the hole, and threw stones in, but none of them hit Don.

Finally, one of the men who owned the lumber yard came out of his
office, and saw the boys bothering Don. The man called to them:

“Hi there, you little fellows! Run away, and play somewhere else.”

Then the boys ran away, and left Don alone. The man did not know there
was a dog hiding under his lumber pile. But Don felt very kindly toward
the man who had driven away the boys.

“Now if he would only help me get rid of this can on my tail I’d be
all right,” thought Don. “I wonder where Jack is?”

For some time Don stayed hiding under the lumber pile. His heart was
not beating so fast now, though his tail still hurt him, where the can
was tied on. And he was hungry and thirsty, for he had eaten nothing
since the night before. Don was just thinking it would be safe to come
out of his hiding place, when he heard a dog barking. And he knew, at
once, that it was his shaggy friend Jack.

Though Jack’s voice would have sounded to you and me only like: “Bow
wow wow!” to Don it said:

“Where are you? What has happened? Where are you hiding?”

“Bow wow!” answered Don. “Here I am. Oh, where have you been? Such a
lot has happened since you went away, and left me sleeping. There is a
can tied to my tail.”

“Poor fellow!” said Jack to Don, as the latter crawled out. “You have
had a lot of trouble, haven’t you? Never mind, I’ll soon have that off
your tail.” And he did, gnawing the rope with his sharp teeth.

“Now I have a bone for you,” went on Jack. “I left it in the place
where we slept. It isn’t a very good one, but it’s the best one I could
find this morning.”

“Oh, that’s a fine bone,” said Don, when he was hungrily gnawing it. At
home he would hardly have looked twice at such a bone, for it had very
little meat on it. But since he had run away he was glad enough to get
almost anything.

“Where did you go?” asked Don of Jack, as the bone was finished, and
Don began to feel thirsty.

“Oh, seeing that you were soundly asleep, I went out to look for
breakfast,” answered Jack. “I did not think the boys would find you
asleep. We must look for a new hiding place, since they know where this
one is. Now we’ll see if it’s all right to go get a drink, down at the
river. It isn’t far.”

Jack looked out, but, almost at once, he drew in his head again.

“What’s the matter?” asked Don.

“There’s a man out there,” explained Jack. “I don’t want him to see us,
or he might chase us.”

Don looked, and when he saw the man he exclaimed:

“Why, he’s a good man. He drove away the boys who were throwing stones
at me.”

“Then he didn’t know you were there,” said Jack, “for he doesn’t like
dogs, and he won’t have them in this lumber yard. We must wait until he
goes away.”

So, though Don would have liked to go up to the man, and be patted on
the head, he thought perhaps Jack knew best.

“Things are so different in the city from the country,” said Don, with
a dog-sigh.

“Indeed they are,” barked Jack.

Pretty soon the man went out of the lumber yard, and then Jack and Don
could go down to the edge of the river, near the piles of boards, and
get a drink of cool water.

“Oh, that’s fine!” cried Don. “That’s the best water I’ve had since I
ran away.”

“Yes, it is good,” agreed Jack. “That’s why I have a place near it. We
can’t always get all we want to eat in the city, but water is not so
hard to find. Now let’s go and hunt up our dinner.”

“But we just had breakfast,” said Don.

“I know we did,” spoke Jack, as he washed his face with his paw, “but
we may have to hunt a long time for something more to eat, and then it
will be dinner time.”

Once more Don thought how very different this was from his farm kennel.

There, after he had had his breakfast, he could play around, or perhaps
drive in a runaway pig, or go after the sheep or cows. He did not have
to worry about his dinner, for he knew Bob, or some one, would bring
it to him. But now Don had to go out and look for a bone in an ash can.
Oh, it was very different!

This day Don and Jack were lucky. Together, as they ran about the city
streets, they found a large piece of meat, which some cook had thrown
out at the back door of a house.

“Oh, this will be fine!” cried Jack. “We’ll take this to the lumber
yard, and put it in a new hiding place. There will be enough for dinner
and supper too.”

It was not a very good piece of meat, being old and tough, but it was
just as good to those dogs as roast turkey would be to you.

Jack took the meat in his mouth, and started off with it.

“Keep a watch out for other dogs,” he said to Don. “They may try to
take it away from us. And, if they do, drive them off.”

“I will,” said Don. And he had to, several times. But Don was now a big
dog, and he was braver and bolder than ever before. So, when two or
three dogs ran up, Don growled and showed his sharp teeth, so that the
other dogs were glad enough to run away.

Jack picked out a new place under a pile of lumber, and there he and
Don ate their dinner. They were feeling much better now, for there was
enough meat left for their supper. And they could always get plenty of
clean drinking water in the river.

“Oh, running away isn’t so bad, after all,” said Don that night, after
the last of the meat had been eaten. “I am beginning to like it, now.”

“Wait,” advised Jack. “This is only the beginning. Not always will we
have such good luck as we had to-day.”

Jack was right. The next day they could find nothing to eat until late
in the afternoon. Then it was only a small bone which they divided
between them.

It rained, too, and the water ran down through the lumber pile and got
the dogs wet.

But Don could not find his way home, having traveled so far in the
freight car. He tried to get back to Bob, but he could not, and Jack
could not help him.

For several weeks Jack and Don lived together in the lumber pile,
eating what and when they could. Sometimes other dogs would fight them,
and try to take away their bones, but Jack and Don were both strong,
and usually they kept what they found.

Don could go off by himself now, to find food, and one day, as he was
off thus, searching in different ash cans, he had a sad adventure.

He had just found a nice bone, in some clean ashes, and was wiping it
off on the grass, when he saw two men running toward him. One of them
had a long net, on a pole, like the net Bob used for catching fish, and
Don wondered what this was for. He soon found out.

“There’s a stray dog!” cried one of the men. “Get him, and we’ll take
him away!” And the dog-catcher ran straight for Don.




CHAPTER X

DON’S NEW FRIEND


Poor Don did not know what to make of all this. But, somehow, he
felt that he was in danger, and, with one more glance back over his
shoulder, seeing the man with the net on the long pole still running
after him, Don ran also――and faster than ever.

“This is queer,” thought Don. “I wonder what makes that man chase me?
And does he think I am a fish, that he tries to catch me in a net?”

But these men were not fishing for fish――they were fishing for dogs,
and Don did not know what would happen if they caught him, so he ran
faster and faster.

Those men, you see, were hired to catch stray dogs that were not
allowed to run loose about the streets in summer. The people feared the
stray dogs would go mad and bite them, so they hired men, with wagons
and nets, to catch them.

Once the dogs were caught they would be put in a pen, called a “pound,”
and if, after a certain time, the dog’s master did not come and take
him away, the poor dog would be killed. That is what they do to stray
dogs in the city.

Of course Don did not know all this, though his friend Jack had told
him to be careful as he went about the streets. So now Don felt there
was some danger, and on and on he ran, as fast as he could run.

Somehow, Don could not run as fast and as far as he used to. On the
farm, when he raced with Bob, Don always beat. But since he had run
away, Don had not had as good things to eat as he had had on the farm.
And he had not had as good a place to sleep in. So Don was not as
strong and healthful as he had been.

“Why, I’m getting tired!” panted poor Don, as he raced on. He looked
back over his shoulder. The man with the net was coming closer. There
was another man following, with a big, black wagon.

“Can you get him?” asked the man, driving the black wagon.

“Yes, I’ll have him in a minute!” cried the man with the net. “That
will make the wagon full, and we’ll take ’em all to the pound.”

“You’ll never take me there――not if I can help it!” thought Don.

He ran on, his red tongue hanging out of his mouth, and his breath
coming in gasps. He was thirsty, too, but he saw no place to get a
drink. Even if there had been a puddle of water, Don would not have
dared stop to lap up any, for the dog catcher was close to him, coming
on and on.

“Oh dear!” thought Don. “This is terrible! How much better I would have
been had I stayed on the farm. No more running away for me.”

But Don was not at the end of his adventures, even yet.

He gave one more glance backward, to see how close the man with the
net was to him, and then something happened. Don stepped on a sharp
piece of glass in the street, and cut his foot, not badly, but enough
to make him limp. And then he could not run so fast. The piece of glass
must have stuck in his foot, for Don could not step on it without its
hurting him very much. He had to run on three legs.

Now a dog cannot run as fast on three legs as he can on four, and Don
had to go slower and slower.

“Now you can get him!” cried the man on the wagon.

“Yes, I’ll have him now,” shouted the man with the net.

Don tried to run on faster, but it was of no use. In a few minutes more
he felt something hit him on the head. Then he was all tangled up in
the meshes of the net, and he fell down, hurting his cut foot more than
ever.

[Illustration: He was all tangled up in the meshes of the net, and he
fell down.]

“Now I have you!” cried the man with the net. He picked up Don, and, as
the wagon came up, tossed him into it. Instantly there was a chorus of
barks and growls, for there were many other dogs in the wagon, and they
did not seem to like Don.

“Who’s coming in here now?” growled one of the dogs in the catcher’s
wagon.

“Yes; weren’t we crowded enough already?” asked another.

“Oh, well, it doesn’t make much difference,” snarled a third dog.
“We’ll soon have room enough in the pound.”

“I’m sorry to bother you,” said Don, thinking it best to make friends
with the stray dogs, “but I did not come in here of my own accord. I
was――”

“Thrown in!” interrupted a little, white poodle dog in one corner of
the wagon. “That’s it――you were thrown in――I saw you!”

“That is right, I was thrown in,” said Don. “I’d gladly go out, if I
could, and make more room for you, but I can’t,” and he looked at the
dogs and the tightly closed door.

“No, you can’t get out,” growled the yellow dog who had said there
would be more room soon. “We’ll just have to crowd up a little closer,
that’s all. But we’ll soon have plenty of room to move about.”

“You said that before,” spoke the little poodle dog. “How do you know?”

“Because I have been there,” was the answer. “I was caught once before,
just as I was this time, and taken to the pound. But a boy came and
bought me, so I was allowed to go.”

I forgot to tell you that sometimes people who want a dog go to the
pound, pick one out of those that have been caught, and buy it, taking
it away to give it a good home.

“I hope some one buys me,” thought Don. “I don’t like this life, living
like a tramp, with no good place to sleep, and no nice things to eat.”

The wagon rumbled on to the city pound, and there the dogs were allowed
to go out, and run about in a yard, all fenced in with wire. There were
many other dogs there, little ones and big ones, nice ones, and some
that were not so nice. Some of them snarled and barked, and some tried
to get out, but could not.

“Oh dear!” cried one little poodle dog, whose silken hair showed that
he was used to a good home. “Oh dear! I don’t like it here. Oh, stop!”
he cried, as a bigger dog tried to bite him.

“Here, you let him alone!” growled Don to the big dog.

“Why should I let him alone?” asked the big dog, growling and showing
his teeth.

“Because he’s a friend of mine,” said Don.

“Oh, well,” answered the bad dog, “in that case it’s different. I
didn’t know he was a friend of yours. Of course I’ll let him alone.”

“You’d better,” growled Don. Of course the little dog was not really a
friend of Don’s, for he had never seen him before, but Don thought it
best to speak that way, for he did not want to see the little dog hurt.

And when the bad dog had gone off in a corner of the pound, the little
silky poodle, who had been in the same wagon with Don, came up to him,
and said:

“It was very kind of you to take my part that way. I am very much
obliged to you. It was nice to tell him I was your friend,” and he
wagged his tail in a friendly fashion.

“Oh, that’s all right,” said Don, as he limped to a shady place to lie
down.




CHAPTER XI

DON AT A PARTY


The little silky poodle dog followed Don, for the dogs in the pound
were not very friendly toward one another――at least most of them were
not. You would have thought, being all in trouble together, that they
would be friendly and kind, but the big dogs picked on the little ones,
and the little ones snarled at the big ones, until there was so much
noise that it sounded like a dozen dog fights going on at once.

But Don and the little poodle dog did not quarrel. They seemed to be
good friends from the start.

“Oh, have you hurt your foot?” asked the poodle of Don.

“Yes, I stepped on some glass when the man with the net was chasing
me,” said Don.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” the other dog said. “I’m so sorry. If you were
at my house, now, my little mistress would put some salve and a rag on
your foot, and it would soon be well. Oh dear! I wonder if ever I’ll
see her again?” he sighed.

“See whom?” asked Don.

“My little mistress. I belong to a little girl,” the poodle explained.

“Why did you run away from her?” asked Don.

“Run away? I didn’t!” cried the silky poodle. “I went out on the front
steps to get a breath of fresh air this morning, and when I stood there
a bad boy came along, picked me up, and ran off with me. He wanted to
take me away, and sell me. I’ve often been stolen that way,” said the
poodle. “I’m a very valuable dog, you know.”

“You really have been stolen, and carried away?” asked Don, in surprise.

“Oh, yes,” answered the poodle. “Then my little mistress, or her
father, would put an advertisement in the paper, saying that whoever
had taken me away could have some money if I were brought back, and I
would then be taken home.

“So when this boy grabbed me up off the stoop I thought I was stolen
again. But a policeman saw the boy take me, and the policeman ran after
him. So the boy dropped me and ran, and I got lost, trying to find my
way home again. Then the dog-catcher came and took me in his wagon. Oh
dear! It’s too bad. Were you ever taken away like that?” he asked Don.

“No,” answered Don. “I ran away.”

“Ran away!” exclaimed the poodle. “Why did you do that? Didn’t they
treat you kindly? Did they whip you?”

“Oh, no,” said Don. “My master, Bob, was very kind to me. I was never
whipped. But I wanted to have some adventures, so I ran away.”

“Did you have any adventures?” asked the poodle, whose name was Rex.

“Many of them,” replied Don. “This is one. I wonder if we shall ever
get out of here?”

“Oh, I think so,” answered the poodle. “My little mistress, or her
father, is sure to come looking for me.”

“Well, I wish some one would come for me, or that I could find my
way back to the farm,” said Don, sadly enough. “I’d never run away
again――never!”

It was not at all nice in the dog pound. There was water to drink, but
it was not clean, and it was very warm, for the sun shone on it all day
long. And there was hardly anything to eat.

Once in a while some scraps of food were thrown in to the dogs, but
there were so many of them, and they were so fierce and strong, the
most of them, that little dogs, like Rex, and lame dogs, like Don, got
nothing at all.

“And I am so hungry!” whined Rex. “I would just like to have some nice
chicken bones now, wouldn’t you, Don?”

“I’d be glad to have even a dry crust of bread,” said Don, sadly.

His foot pained him more than ever now, and he could walk about only a
little, and very slowly.

“I am so sorry for you,” said Rex. “When my little mistress comes for
me I know she’ll help you. Maybe she’ll take you home when she takes
me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t expect that,” said Don. “But I would be glad if I were
back in the hole in the lumber pile, with my friend Jack. I thought
that was bad enough, after my nice kennel, but I would be glad of it
now.”

“I wouldn’t like to live that way,” said Rex. “Did you have a blue silk
cushion to sleep on, when you were home?” he asked.

“No,” said Don, “but I had some nice, clean straw. I like that better
than a cushion. But now I am going over and get some of that water.
Even if it is warm and muddy, I must drink it.”

“And I’ll have to take some, too,” said Rex. “But I wish I had some
nice, cool, clean water out of my little white dish at home.”

Even dogs cannot have what they want, especially if they run away, or
get lost, so Don and Rex had to make the best of what they could get.

Don, and his new friend Rex, had to stay in the pound several days.
Each day they liked it less and less, for they grew hungrier and
hungrier. They saw several of the dogs taken away by those who owned
them, but no one came for Rex, and of course no one came for Don. For
Bob did not know where his pet was, and the little mistress of Rex did
not seem to think of looking in the pound for him.

Many, many times, in those days spent in the pound, Don wished over and
over again that he had never run away from Bob.

“Those were happy days!” sighed Don.

He even wished for the time he had spent with Jack, the stray dog. But
Jack was more lucky than Don――he had not been caught and taken to the
pound.

“I don’t see why some one doesn’t come for me,” said Rex one day, as he
and Don were talking together in one corner of the pound. Don’s foot
was growing better now.

“Perhaps they may come to-day,” said Don.

“I hope so,” spoke Rex. “I need a bath very much. I like to be clean.
And I am so hungry for a good meal, and for some nice food to eat, and
cold water to drink.”

“So am I,” Don said. “But I don’t believe we shall get either, very
soon.”

However, good luck was coming to Don and Rex. It was the very same
afternoon that they saw the gate of the pound open, and the dog-catcher
come in. With him was another man and a little girl.

“Here are some stray dogs,” said the pound-keeper. “Maybe your pet is
in here, little girl.”

Rex gave one look at the visitors, and then he let out a joyful bark,
and wagged his tail very hard.

“What’s the matter?” asked Don.

“There’s my little mistress come for me!” barked Rex. “Now I’ll be
taken home and cared for.”

“I wish that was going to be my luck,” said Don, sadly.

“Bow wow!” barked Rex, running up to the little girl. She looked at him
once, and then she cried:

“Oh, father! Here he is! Here’s my own Rex! I’ve found him again!” and,
all dirty as Rex was, the little girl picked him up in her arms and
hugged him tightly. Oh, how happy Rex was!

“So that’s your dog?” asked the pound-keeper.

“Yes, I’ve found him!” cried the little girl, happily.

“So it is Rex,” said her father. “I wonder how he got here?”

“We found him on the street,” said the pound-keeper, “and we have to
pick up all stray dogs, you know.”

“I know――yes,” said the little girl’s father. “But now we’ll take Rex
home with us, Alice.”

“Oh, yes, father. And I must give him a good wash. I think he is
hungry, too. Look how thin he is!”

“He must have had a hard time,” said the man, patting Rex on the head.
“I wonder what has happened to him since he was taken away?”

“Oh, if I could only tell you!” thought Rex, but of course he could
not speak man or girl talk. The little mistress of the silken poodle
started out of the pound with him in her arms. But this did not suit
Rex. He did not want to go away from Don that way. Poor Don felt very
sad and alone, as he saw his little friend being taken away, while he
had to stay in the pound.

Rex struggled so hard, that the little girl had to put him down.

“Why, Rex, what is it?” she asked. “Don’t you want me to take you home,
and away from this place?”

“Bow wow!” barked Rex, which meant: “Yes, thank you, of course I do.
But I have a friend here,” and he ran up to Don, and stood so close to
him that, in a minute, the little girl’s father guessed what the little
poodle dog meant.

“Your pet has made a friend while in the pound,” said the man. “See,
Alice, he likes that big dog.”

Then Rex took hold of the shaggy hair of Don’s leg, for that was as far
up as he could reach, and he tried to pull Don toward Alice.

“Look!” exclaimed the little girl. “Oh, father! I believe Rex wants us
to take that other dog with us!”

“It does look so,” spoke the man. “I guess this big dog, whatever his
name is, has been kind to Rex.”

“Bow wow! Indeed he has!” barked Rex, but of course Alice and her
father could not understand his talk. They did understand his actions,
however, for Rex did not seem to want to go away without Don.

“Oh, father! Could we take him with us?” asked Alice, as she patted Don
on his big head. He looked up at her with his big, kind brown eyes.

“Well, yes, I suppose we could keep another dog,” said the man. “Only
he is so big he’d have to stay out in the stable, with the horses. You
couldn’t have him in the house, as you do Rex.”

“Oh, please let’s take him home!” begged Alice.

“All right,” answered her father with a laugh. “We’ll take the big dog
home too,” he said to the pound-keeper.

“I am glad of it,” said the pound-keeper. “I was sorry I had to bring
that dog in, for he looks as though he had been in a good home. I’m
glad you’re taking him.”

So Don was led out of the pound, and he walked along beside the man,
while Alice carried Rex in her arms.

Outside the dog pound was a big automobile. Alice and her father had
come in that.

“See, James!” cried Alice to the chauffeur. “I have Rex back again.”

“So I see,” spoke the chauffeur. “Hello, Rex!” and he patted the poodle
on the head, for he knew him well.

“Bow wow!” barked Rex. Then to Don he said: “Now we are all right. I’ll
have my blue silk cushion to sleep on, and we’ll both have all we want
to eat, and good water to drink. Aren’t you glad to come home with me?”

“Yes, indeed I am――and thank you very much,” said Don, in his dog talk,
to Rex. “But are we to ride in that auto?” he asked. “I never have been
in one, though once one almost ran over me.”

“Of course we are to ride in it,” said Rex. “I hardly ever walk. Jump
in!”

“If Squinty, the pig, could only see me now!” thought Don, as he rode
away with Rex.

The first thing that happened to Don and Rex, when they got to the
place where the poodle dog lived, was that they each had a nice bath.
Rex, being so little, had his in the house, but Don got his scrubbing
out in the automobile garage, under a hose. And oh! how good it
felt――the cool water splashing on him. Then he was dried in the warm
sun, and given a good meal.

“Now I am happy again,” thought Don. “But still I would like to go back
to the farm, and my little master Bob.”

For several weeks Don lived in the barn back of the house where Rex had
his home. Sometimes Don was taken into the house, and allowed to play
with Rex, for Rex was very fond of his big dog friend. And often Rex
came out to the barn.

One day Alice came out to the barn with a red ribbon in her hand.

“James, where is Don?” she asked the chauffeur.

“What do you want with him, Miss Alice?” asked the man who steered the
auto.

“I want to tie this red ribbon on his neck, to make him look pretty,”
she answered. “I am having a party this afternoon, and I want Don to
come to it a little while, and do some of his tricks. He can do more
tricks than can Rex. Oh, there you are, Don!” cried Alice, as she saw
the big dog. “Come and have a nice ribbon tied on you, and then you may
come to the party!” she said.

When the bow was fastened on his neck, Don was led into the house to
the party. And a very wonderful thing happened there.




CHAPTER XII

DON AND THE BEAR


Don did not know very much about parties――especially girls’ parties. On
the farm there had never been any parties, except for boys, and those
were mostly fishing, or nutting parties. Don never wore any ribbons to
those.

This party that Alice gave was quite different. Don was led into the
parlor, and he saw many little girls sitting about, all wearing white
dresses, with sashes of different colored ribbons.

Some of the sashes were almost as large as the little girls themselves.

On the other side of the room were the boys, and they wore black suits
and large white collars.

“Ah ha!” thought Don. “It must be Sunday, the reason they are all
dressed up so nicely. And that’s why I have to wear a red ribbon. Yes,
it must be Sunday.”

On the farm, you see, Don had seen Bob, and the others, put on
different clothes for Sunday, and he thought it was that way now. But
it was only Alice’s party.

“Oh, what a lovely big dog!” cried the girls, as Alice led Don in. “Is
he yours?”

“We found him in the pound,” answered Alice. “And he can do tricks,
too.”

Alice had found this out soon after bringing Don to her home, and she
and her father had put the dog through all the tricks that he could
perform.

“Hello, Don!” cried Rex, who was lying on a blue silk cushion. “You
want to behave your prettiest now, old chap! This is a party, you know.”

“Yes,” said Don, barking softly. He was afraid to bark too loudly, for
fear of knocking down some of the vases from the mantel.

“Now, Don!” said Alice, “show the girls and boys how you stand up on
your hind legs.”

Don kindly did this trick for Alice, as he had been used to doing it
for Bob. Then he did others, and the boys and girls clapped their hands
and laughed.

Then, when Don had finished his trick of marching around like a soldier
dog, with the broom for a gun, a boy, larger than any of the others at
the party, came into the parlor. As soon as Alice saw him she ran up to
him, crying:

[Illustration: “It’s my dog, Don, that ran away from the farm a long
while ago!”]

“Oh, Cousin Bob! I was afraid you couldn’t come, you live so far off in
the country. But I’m awfully glad you came to my party.”

“So am I glad, Cousin Alice,” said the big boy. “I came on the train.
I wouldn’t miss one of your parties for anything! Why you have a new
dog!” he exclaimed, as he saw Don.

“Yes,” answered Alice, “I got him out of the pound, where they had
taken Rex, and――”

Then Alice suddenly stopped talking, for her cousin Bob, who had come
all the way from the country to her birthday party, stood looking at
Don in a queer way. And Don was looking at Bob.

“Why――why――” began Bob. “That dog――he looks just like――why I believe
it’s my dog, Don, that ran away from the farm a long while ago!” he
cried. “It’s Don!”

Don was barking now. He did not care how many vases he jarred from the
mantel.

“Bow wow!” he barked. “Of course I’m Don, and you’re my master Bob. I
know you!”

He sprang toward the boy, and, rising up, put his paws on Bob’s
shoulder, licking his master’s face and hands with his tongue.

“Oh, look!” cried the boys and girls. “It’s another trick!”

“No, this isn’t a trick,” said Bob. “It’s just that Don is glad to see
me again, aren’t you, old fellow?”

Don barked, whined, wagged his tail and tried to do half a dozen things
at once, he was so glad to see Bob again.

And Bob was so glad to get his pet dog back that he put his arms about
his neck and hugged him tightly.

“Oh, Don!” cried Bob. “Where have you been all these weeks?”

Of course Don could not tell, and Bob could only guess.

“And is he really your lost dog?” asked Alice of Bob.

“He certainly is,” answered Bob, laughing. “But it is the strangest
thing to find him at your party. Where did you get him?”

Then Alice told of how her pet Rex had been taken away, and how she had
found him in the pound, and how Rex seemed to want Don to come home
with him.

“And so we brought him, and have kept him ever since,” said Alice. “But
of course you can have him now, Bob.”

“Thank you,” said Bob. So it turned out that Don found his master
again, in a very strange way.

“And to think that I found Don this time!” cried Bob. “We missed him so
at the farm. Squinty, the pig, runs out of his pen very often, and Don
was the only one who could get him back. Yes, we need Don at the farm.”

“Will you be glad to go back there, Don?” asked Rex, for the two dogs
understood something of what was going on.

“Yes, I think I shall be glad to get back,” answered Don. “It was very
nice here, of course,” he said, “and I like you very much, but I need
room to run about. Some day I hope you will come to the country and see
me.”

“Perhaps I shall,” said Rex. “If I come I shall probably come in the
automobile, though, and sleep on my blue silk cushion. I am so used to
that.”

Then the party went on, Don doing more tricks for Bob. And how the
other boys and girls laughed and clapped their hands!

“I wonder how I can get Don home?” said Bob, when the party was over,
after the children had eaten ice cream and cake.

“You can ride to the farm in father’s automobile,” said his cousin
Alice, “and Don can ride with you. That’s how we brought him from the
pound.”

“That will be a good way,” said Bob.

The next day, after Don had said good-by to Rex, he was taken back to
the farm in the automobile.

“Well, this is certainly better than running along on three legs,”
thought Don, whose sore foot was all well now.

When they were half-way to the farm the automobile had to stop, because
all the wind came out of one of the big tires, and James, the chauffeur
man who steered the machine, had to get out to put on a new tire.

While Bob and Alice, who rode with Bob, carrying Rex in her arms, were
waiting under the shade of a tree beside the road, they heard a bugle
horn playing.

“What’s that?” cried Alice. “Soldiers?”

“It sounds more like the horn of a fishman,” said Bob.

But it was neither one. Don smelled a strange, wild-animal smell in the
air, like the one coming from the circus passing along the road, the
day Squinty, the comical pig, had run away. Then, around a bend in the
road came two men, one of them leading a big bear by a chain, and the
other carrying the horn.

“Oh, it’s a bear!” cried Alice. “I’m afraid!”

“Don’t be afraid,” said Bob. “It’s only a tame, trained bear.”

Don and Rex both barked at the bear, but, to their surprise, the bear
spoke to them in animal language.

“Don’t be afraid,” the bear said, kindly. “I won’t hurt any one. I’m
only going to do some tricks.” And when the men spoke to him, he
turned somersaults, marched around like a soldier, with a wooden gun,
and climbed a telegraph pole.

“Isn’t that a pretty good trick?” asked the bear.

“It certainly is,” said Don. “I can do some tricks, but I can’t climb
telegraph poles.”

“Oh, I can do other things, too,” said the bear. “I have lots of fun
going about the country with my masters.”

And, in another book, to be called “Dido, the Dancing Bear,” I shall
tell you what happened to the big, shaggy creature.

Soon the automobile tire was mended, and away went Bob and Alice again,
with Don and Rex, leaving Dido, the bear, sitting on the grass with the
two men, eating a bun.

A little later Don was back on the farm again, and every one was glad
to see him after all his adventures. And, as soon as he could, Don ran
out to see Squinty, the comical pig.

“Where in the world have you been, Don?” asked Squinty.

“Oh, pretty nearly all over,” answered Don. “Has anything happened here
since I’ve been gone?”

“Oh, I was bought by a boy, and I ran away, and I went up in a balloon,
and I had many adventures,” said Squinty. “But I was glad to get back
to the farm again.”

“So am I,” said Don. And then he went to look for a juicy bone. And so
we will say good-by to Don, the runaway dog.


THE END




GOOD STORIES FOR CHILDREN

(From four to nine years old)


THE KNEETIME ANIMAL STORIES

By RICHARD BARNUM

[Illustration]

In all nursery literature animals have played a conspicuous part; and
the reason is obvious, for nothing entertains a child more than the
antics of an animal. These stories abound in amusing incidents such as
children adore, and the characters are so full of life, so appealing to
a child’s imagination, that none will be satisfied until they have met
all of their favorites――Squinty, Slicko, Mappo, and the rest.

   1 Squinty, the Comical Pig.
   2 Slicko, the Jumping Squirrel.
   3 Mappo, the Merry Monkey.
   4 Tum Tum, the Jolly Elephant.
   5 Don, a Runaway Dog.
   6 Dido, the Dancing Bear.
   7 Blackie, a Lost Cat.
   8 Flop Ear, the Funny Rabbit.
   9 Tinkle, the Trick Pony.
  10 Lightfoot, the Leaping Goat.
  11 Chunky, the Happy Hippo.
  12 Sharp Eyes, the Silver Fox.
  13 Nero, the Circus Lion.
  14 Tamba, the Tame Tiger.
  15 Toto, the Rustling Beaver.
  16 Shaggo, the Mighty Buffalo.
  17 Winky, the Wily Woodchuck.

_Cloth, Large 12mo., Illustrated._


 BARSE & HOPKINS
 Publishers
 Newark, N. J.      New York, N. Y.




_Stories of Adventure_

(For children from 5 to 9 years old)


The Traveling Bears Series

By SEYMOUR EATON

[Illustration]

Teddy B and Teddy G are as nearly human as it is possible for bears to
be. They love children and make playmates of them wherever they go.
They never have an idle moment, and their traveling adventures are
amusing as well as instructive.

Snappy, exciting tales, with plenty of action in every chapter and a
laugh on every page. Books which will be read as long as there are
children to read them.

   1 THE ADVENTURES OF THE TRAVELING BEARS.
   2 THE TRAVELING BEARS IN THE EAST AND WEST.
   3 THE TRAVELING BEARS IN NEW YORK.
   4 THE TRAVELING BEARS IN OUT-DOOR SPORTS.
   5 THE TRAVELING BEARS AT PLAY.
   6 THE TRAVELING BEARS IN ENGLAND.
   7 THE TRAVELING BEARS ACROSS THE SEA.
   8 THE TRAVELING BEARS IN FAIRYLAND.
   9 THE TRAVELING BEAR DETECTIVES.
  10 THE TRAVELING BEAR’S BIRTHDAY.

_Boards, Quarto, Illustrated._


 BARSE & HOPKINS
 _PUBLISHERS_
 NEWARK, N. J.      NEW YORK, N. Y.


       *       *       *       *       *


 Transcriber’s Notes:

 ――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).

 ――Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.

 ――Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.

 ――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.