Four Afoot: Being the Adventures of the Big Four on the Highway

“I’d rather not, sir,” he muttered. “Barry’s made it up to me lots of times. I – we – got quite fond of him, sir.”

“I s’pose you did,” said the farmer thoughtfully, eying Dan. “I’m sorry,” he added simply.

“What’s his name, sir?” asked Tom.

“His full name’s Forest Lad, but I call him Laddie. He used to belong to a Mr. Hutchinson who has a place about a mile from here and raises dogs. They say Laddie got a prize once at some show in New York, but I don’t know for sure. He got sick in the spring, and one day when I was over at the Hutchinson place with some grain I admired him, and Mr. Hutchinson said I could have him if I thought I could cure him. I said I guessed all he needed was plenty of fresh air and exercise – he was in a run over there, with a fence around him – and so I took him. And it did cure him too. Now, I guess Laddie got sort of homesick one day, and started out for Hutchinson’s. The place is closed up this summer – the family’s in Europe, I think – and it’s likely that when Laddie got there he didn’t find anyone around. Maybe he thought he’d sort of wait awhile. I guess that’s how you happened to run across him.”

“I guess so,” Dan agreed.

“I want you boys to stay to dinner,” continued the farmer. “It’ll be ready in about half an hour. And if Jerry’s through with the team he might show you around. Maybe you’ve never seen an up-to-date farm, eh?”

So Mr. Osgood excused himself, and Jerry took them in charge. Barry, for Dan was always to remember the terrier by that name, elected to go with them, much to Dan’s delight, and acted as though he was guide instead of Jerry. There was much to interest them, and they weren’t nearly through when the bell rang for dinner, and they had to hurry back to the house. They found quite a company assembled in the dining room, for besides Mr. Osgood there was his wife and two daughters, an elderly lady whose relationship wasn’t quite plain, Jerry, and four other farm hands. So they made quite a tableful when all were seated. It was a bully dinner, to quote Tom – and Tom was a bit of an authority on such things – and they ate heartily. And presently Nelson brought up the subject of Jerry and Mr. Cozzens’s offer, and their host listened in silence. Nelson painted in vivid colors the advantages to accrue to Jerry, and when he was through, the farmer ate for a minute in silence. Finally,

“Well, I’m sorry to lose Jerry,” he said thoughtfully, “but I’m not going to stand in his way. I didn’t get overmuch education myself, but I’m not fool enough to think it’s unnecessary. I guess if I’d had more of it I might have arrived where I am to-day a good deal earlier. So Jerry does just as he wants to in this matter. But if he takes my advice he will go to this school you tell about. What say, Jerry?”

Jerry maintained an embarrassed silence for a moment. Then,

“I think I’ll go, sir, if it ain’t putting you in no hole,” he replied. “Leastways, I’d like to see Mr. Cozzens and talk it over with him.”

“Right you are! You’d better go over to-morrow morning. And then if you decide to stay I’ll send your things over to you. But you must let me know right away so’s I can get some one in your place. Help isn’t easy to find this time of year.”

“Thank you, sir,” answered the boy gratefully. “I’ll write to you to-morrow afternoon if I don’t come back.”

[As a matter of fact, Jerry didn’t come back. He stayed at St. Alfred’s, and never regretted it for a moment. But all this has nothing to do with the present story.]

After dinner the boys completed their tour of inspection, and then made ready to depart. Dan had been looking pretty downhearted, and when the time came to take leave of Barry he didn’t feel much better. They shook hands with Mr. Osgood, were cordially invited to come again, and then turned to Jerry.

“Good-by, Jerry,” said Bob. “Don’t get discouraged if the work seems hard at first. It’s going to be a tussle, but you can do it.”

“That’s so,” said Tom, shaking hands. “Just you bu-bu-bu-buckle down to it, Jerry. Remember we’re bu-bu-back of you!”

“Good-by,” said Dan. “And good luck.”

“Good-by, Signor Danello,” answered Jerry with a shy effort at pleasantry. “I – I’m sorry about – the dog.”

Dan nodded and moved away.

“I’ll write to you now and then,” said Nelson, “and tell you about things at school – our school, Jerry – so you can keep your courage up. And you’ll write to me, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Jerry replied eagerly. “Only – I ain’t a very good writer, Nelson.”

“That’s all right; neither am I, I guess. Good-by. Good-by, Mr. Osgood! And thanks for letting Jerry off.”

“Good-by,” echoed the others.

The Four turned down the walk to the gate. Barry, who during the proceedings had been manifestly uneasy, now pricked his ears and watched Dan’s departure with alert interest. Once he turned and looked inquiringly at Mr. Osgood. The farmer returned his look with a smile and a wink. Perhaps Barry understood that, like Jerry, he was free to choose for himself. For after one indecisive moment he gave a bark and flew down the walk as hard as he could go. He caught Dan at the gate, and leaped ecstatically about him. Dan, his lips trembling, waved him back and tried to tell him to go home. But the words wouldn’t come. Bob and Nelson and Tom watched, silently sympathetic. Barry ran into the road and turned, his tail wagging fast, as though asking, “What are you waiting for? Aren’t we all here?”

“Barry,” muttered Dan miserably, “I can’t take you, old chap. You aren’t my dog any more. You – you’ll have to go home.”

Then footsteps crunched on the gravel, and Dan turned to find Mr. Osgood smiling kindly into his eyes.

“I gave him his choice,” said the farmer, “and he’s made it. He’s yours if you want him, my boy.”

Three hours later the Four – or should I say the Five? – were standing on the deck of the little steamer watching the Long Island shore recede across the waters of the Sound. The boat’s nose was pointed toward New York – and school and study and hard work. But every face there showed happiness and contentment. For, being healthy and sensible, they knew that study and hard work stand just as much for enjoyment as do vacation days. And of all in the group there on the deck the happiest was Dan, unless – well, unless, possibly, it was Barry!

THE END