The Rover Boys on the Plains Part 19

"I see something!" cried Fred suddenly.

"Where?" asked the others in a breath.

"There--but it's gone now."

Again they waited, and soon came a rustling on the other side of the camp, followed by the cracking of a bone which had been thrown away during the evening repast.

"There he is!"

"Shoot him!"

"No, don't shoot!" burst out Tom. "I know what it is."

"What?"

"Nothing but a dog."

"Nonsense."

"I say it is." Tom began to whistle. "Come here, old boy," he went on. "Good dog, come here."

At this, the animal stopped crunching the bone and came forward slowly and suspiciously. It was indeed a large, black dog, with curly hair and lean sides.

"Hullo!" cried Sam. "Come here, that's a good dog. Say, fellows, he looks half starved."

"Are you sure it ain't no catpob?" queried Hans anxiously.

"Yes, Hans," answered Songbird. "He is nothing but a dog, and rather friendly at that."

The dog came closer, wagging his tail slowly and suspiciously. d.i.c.k put out his hand and patted him, and then he waved his tail in a vigorous fashion.

"He is willing enough to be friends," said the eldest Rover. "I shouldn't be surprised if he is homeless."

"In that case, we might adopt him," said Tom, who loved a nice dog.

"Let us try him on something to eat," put in Songbird. "There is no meat left on that bone."

Some things had been saved for breakfast, and a portion was set before the newcomer. He devoured it greedily and wagged his tail furiously.

"He feels at home now," said d.i.c.k, and he was right. The dog leaped up, first on one and then another, and licked their hands.

"What's your name?" asked Tom, and the dog wagged his tail and gave a low, joyful bark.

"Better call him Wags," suggested Sam. "He seems to be death on keeping that tail going."

"Wags it is," announced Tom. "How do you like it, Wags, old boy?"

And the dog barked again and leaped up and down several times in joy.

"Vell, he vos goot enough," was Hans' comment. "Bud I ton't see vy he couldn't introduce himselluf by der daydime alretty. I vos going to ped again," and he rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"So am I going to bed," said Fred. "Tom, are you going to stay awake to watch the dog?"

"No, he is going to sleep with me," answered the fun-loving youth.

"Come on, Wags, get your nightcap and come to bed."

He made a certain move of his hand and the canine suddenly sat upon his haunches and c.o.c.ked his head to one side.

"Hullo, he's a trick dog!" exclaimed d.i.c.k. "Shake hands," and the dog did so. Then, as Sam snapped his fingers, the animal began to walk around the camp on his hind legs.

"I'll wager he knows a lot of tricks," said Tom. "And, if so, he must be valuable."

"Then whoever owns him will want him back," was Songbird's comment.

"Well, I guess he can travel with us until somebody claims him," said Tom; and so it was decided.

CHAPTER XII

THE RUNAWAY STEER

On the following morning there was the promise of a storm in the air, and the boys felt a bit blue over the prospects. But, by nine o'clock, the sun came out as brightly as ever and they were correspondingly elated.

"I don't care to do any camping out in wet weather," said Fred. "I got enough of that at the Hall."

"Well, when you camp out, you must take what comes, as the shark said when he swallowed a naval officer and found a sword sticking in his throat," answered Tom. "We can't have the weather built to order for anybody."

Wags was up and moving around, with his tail wagging as furiously as ever. He seemed to feel perfectly at home.

"Acts as if he had known us all our lives," said d.i.c.k. "He is certainly a fine creature, or he will be after he is fed up a bit."

"If he belongs around here, I don't see how he should be starved,"

said Sam.

"Well, you must remember, there are some pretty poor folks living in these parts, Sam. The colored folks are pa.s.sionately fond of dogs, and very often they don't have enough to support themselves."

"I am going to claim Wags as my own until his rightful owner comes along," announced Tom. "Maybe I'll even take him home with me. Our old dog is dead."

This was final, and n.o.body saw fit to dispute the decision. So Wags was given his breakfast, after which the party struck camp, and the journey for the Denton plantation was continued.

The timber pa.s.sed, they came out on a long stretch of prairie land leading to the high hills beyond.

"Here we are on the plains!" cried Sam. "Who wants to race?" And off he rode at top speed, with some of the others following. Even Wags seemed to enjoy the brush, and barked continually as he ran ahead and leaped up before one horse and then another.

Sam's wild ride on the plains lasted rather longer than the others had antic.i.p.ated, and when it came to an end, all found themselves away from the beaten trail which they had been pursuing. They came to a sudden stop and gazed around in perplexity.

"Here's a mess," said d.i.c.k.